


There's a hole in my head and my words are falling out

by wolfypuppypiles



Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, Fluff, Head Injury, Hurt/Comfort, Seizures, Swearing, TBI, Traumatic Brain Injury, Whump, Worried Tony, dad tony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-06-23 06:28:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 30,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15600333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfypuppypiles/pseuds/wolfypuppypiles
Summary: Tony’s stomach clenched into a knot at the sudden cut off of Peters' voice because he hadn’t trailed off, no his word had been strangled before a groan and crash sounded from the other side of the door.Steve jumped in fright at the crash and Tony’s stomach curled tighter at the heavy thump of something hitting the carpet. Something like Peter.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was based on two prompts the first being :Tony saying "You better be sick or dying in there" to Peter and then finding out its true. 
> 
> And the second being Peter suffers from a permanent injury. So, thank you to those that sent those in and thank you to everyone that sent an encouragement to my inbox on tumblr to help me write you guys are the reason this was written at all so, I love you. And I really hope you enjoy

Tony banged his fist on Peters door, quickly losing his patience. “Will you hurry up? How long does it take to get out of your suit? God, you better be sick or dying in there with all the time you’re taking.”

The mechanic grunted, annoyed and looked at his watch again. He’d been waiting for ten minutes for Peter to get out of his spider-suit so he could fix it. Sometime during the mission, the sensors had been compromised and stopped sending out information. 

“Come on, kid. I have other stuff to do tonight. I can’t wait around for you.”

“Is Peter in there alone?” Tony turned at Steve’s worried voice and waved a hand. 

“Yes, because I may be a helicopter parent for a kid I’m not even remotely related to but I am not going to watch him get dressed, thank you.”

Steve pushed past him, to the door, voice hitching up a notch in tone and concern. “Tony, this is serious. He should be in the med bay!”

Natasha and Sam turned at the captains raised voice, looking just as worried and Tony started to panic a little bit. “What? Why?”

Natasha frowned, looking at Sam incredulously. “Because he hit his head. Really hard. Tony, he was out for a full two minutes mid-mission. He hit the ground so hard I thought his skull was going to crack open like an egg. I’m surprised he even woke up let alone swung back here.”

Sam shook his head, confused. “Didn’t Karen or Friday alert you?”

Tony’s heart was about to explode in his chest. Peter had been hurt and he hadn’t known? “No! His suits sensors were damaged! I haven’t gotten any information from his suit for the last thirty minutes!”

Steve thumped on the door, calling out to the youngest avenger. “Peter, I need you to answer me. Are you okay?”

A muffled voice came through, slightly slurred and very tired. “Yes, please stop yelling. I’m fine I just can’t move that fast because of this stupid headache. It’s killing m-”

Tony’s stomach clenched into a knot at the sudden cut off of Peters' voice because he hadn’t trailed off, no his word had been strangled before a groan and crash sounded from the other side of the door. 

Steve jumped in fright at the crash and Tony’s stomach curled tighter at the heavy thump of something hitting the carpet. Something like Peter. 

“Peter, I’m coming in!” 

Steve shoved the door open as all four heroes rushed in, only to freeze in the doorway at the sight greeting them. 

Peter was on the floor, back rigid, eyes rolled back into his head as his whole body shook. 

Steve reacted first, sprinting forward and calling out. “He’s having a seizure! Someone call Bruce!”

He ran in and dropped onto his knees beside the kid, hastily turning Peter on his side and slipping a protective hand under his head. 

Tony blinked after a second and collected himself, making his way to the two on the ground. “Friday, get Bruce in here!”

“Yes, Boss.” The AI’s voice was almost drowned out entirely by the noises the teenager was making. He grunted as he shook, limbs smacking the floor as Steve protected his head and his breaths sounded so strangled that Tony was worried he'd asphyxiate. 

His own voice came shakily as he watched Peter seize, unable to do anything but wait for it to be over. “What’s happening to him?”

Steve’s worried eyes met with Natasha’s and Sam’s from where they stood in the doorway. “It’s gotta be the head injury. It must be worse than we thought. Dammit, I knew I should have stayed with him.”

Tony didn’t bother dignifying that with a response since everyone knew Cap, and half the team of heroes had been too preoccupied with the mission to worry about babysitting a kid that should have known better. 

Sam was looking down at his watch, counting the seconds that ticked by as the crease between his eyebrows grew deeper because, with his enhanced healing, a seizure for Peter should only last a couple of minutes before it got really dangerous. 

Tony couldn’t concentrate on anything but the sharp pangs of worry stabbing through his chest with every beat of his heart because he didn’t know what to do. There was nothing to do. 

He could only sit there and watch the fifteen-year-old shake and grunt, barely bringing in enough air between his clenched teeth. He didn’t even know what was happening and Tony had never liked being in the dark. Peters' head thumped harder against Steve’s hand and Tony felt his throat begin to squeeze tight. 

Footsteps came thundering down the hallway, coming closer and growing louder until finally, Bruce was pulling up to the doorway, pushing a gurney with him. 

“How long has he been seizing for?”

Sam looked up from his watch, eyebrows pinched. “Just over a minute.”

Bruce nodded and pulled his bag off the gurney before kneeling next to his patient. “What happened?”  
Steve answered that one, voice slightly strained from holding the shaking teenager on his side. He may have been having a seizure but he still had super strength and he was hard to hold on to. 

“He was hit in the head during the mission and was down for a couple minutes but when he was up he was mostly okay.”

Bruce snapped his gloves on and pulled a needle out of his bag. “What does ‘mostly okay’ mean?”

Natasha spoke up from the doorway, voice more strained than Tony had ever heard it. “He said he had a bad headache and his words were slurred.”

Tony shuffled back a little, allowing Bruce access to Peters' arm to inject the anticonvulsant. 

It took a moment, but Peter’s shaking started to die down, his eyes closing where they had been rolled back. But the seizure didn’t stop completely. Peter’s muscles were still locked tight, his jaw clenched too and Tony could see the fine tremors vibrating through him. 

“Why isn’t it stopping?” The anticonvulsant had eased it a little, allowing Peter to breathe at a safer rate, but the seizure was still going and Bruce sighed. 

“Dammit.”

“What? What does that mean?” Tony knew he was heading for a kind of panic he couldn’t calm down from and he consciously eased his breaths and tried to slow them down. 

“It means he needs a head scan. Natasha, grab the backboard. Sam, get over here.”

Both heroes did as they were told, hurrying over and crouching next to Bruce as he began giving orders. 

“Put the backboard right up against his back, we’re going to roll him on three. Ready? One, two, three. Natasha, get those orange belts there.”

Peter grunted, limbs still trembling as the hands on him pulled and pushed and strapped him down. His vision was blurry and while he could hear everything around him, his mind was having trouble processing what it all meant. 

Whatever he was lying on was hard and his shoulder blades knocked against it as he shook, muscles tense and locked tight. 

Bruce’s familiar voice came close to his ear as a strong hand pushed his left arm down and strapped it tight while his other arm was released as a blood pressure cuff was wrapped around it. Peter didn’t know what was happening and he was scared. 

Tony watched in horror as the teenager was tied down. “I thought you weren’t supposed to hold people down when they had seizures?”  
Bruce grunted with effort as he tore Peters shirt open and pressed monitors to his chest. “Normally you wouldn’t but we need him in the med bay now and he’d roll right off if he weren’t secured. Dammit, Sam how long has it been?”

The man looked down at his watch, frowning. “Over two minutes, now.”

Bruce cursed and mumbled something else but Tony wasn’t listening because Peter was looking at him. While he seized, hands clenched into tight fists, neck straining while his head thumped back against the backboard, he stared up at Tony. His eyes were wide and frightened with tears that leaked out the corners to roll down his temples and into his hair. 

Tony leaned forward, voice hollow. “Peter, can you hear me?”

And to his horror, Peter nodded. He was still shaking, still going through the seizure but he was conscious and aware and Tony almost wished he weren’t because then Peter wouldn’t have to be so scared. 

Tony quickly grabbed the teenagers hand in his, squeezing it gently as he called out for help. “Bruce, he’s awake.”

The doctors head snapped up from where he was connecting lines and monitors. “What? Is he responding?”

Tony nodded and kept his eyes on the kids, trying not to show how panicked he was. “Yes, what do I do?”

Bruce shook his head a little as if trying to focus, and his hands hurried back to his task. “Talk to him, try and keep him calm.”

Bruce went back to instructing the others while Tony leaned over Peter and tried for a smile. “Hey, buddy. You’re okay. Bruce is taking care of you and I’m going to keep holding your hand. Just keep looking at me. Everything's going to be fine.”

Bruce spoke up, voice controlled and calm, making Tony feel a little more at ease. “Peter, we’re going to lift you into the gurney and get you into the med bay. Just try to keep breathing.”

Peter blinked up at Tony, unable to squeeze the fingers holding his as he felt the backboard and himself being lifted and moved onto the gurney. His jaw was clenched tight and he couldn't speak, trapped in his own body. 

He wanted to say something, to ask what was happening to him or tell Tony he was sorry for not telling him about hitting his head. But all that came from his mouth was a moan. Tony leaned over him as the others began pulling Peters gurney down the hall. 

“Just hang on, kid. You’ll be okay.” He was slightly out of breath as they raced to the med bay and he lifted a careful hand to brush Peters tears away with his thumb. 

Peter wanted to believe him, he wanted to be okay, but his head hurt so badly and it was getting harder to focus.

Peter watched Tony’s worried eyes and tried to hold onto them but they flickered away when something started beeping. 

Bruce lifted his tablet as he ran alongside Peter gurney, cursing. “Shit. Move faster! He’s going to-”

Peter’s eyes rolled back and his back arched, chest straining against the straps holding him down. His heart raced in his chest and he could hear Tony yelling something, hand tightening on his. 

And then there was nothing but white.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter jumps ahead a few weeks after the seizure so, sorry about skipping that but yeah I dont have time to write weeks worth of a coma and shit

“He doesn't remember any of it?” May squeezed Peter’s hand, the teenager not looking up from his tablet where he sat beside her, headphones on. 

Bruce shook his head, hands folded on his desk in front of him. “Apparently not. Nothing of the seizure or the mission. It seems like about a week before the injury is completely gone.”

Tony frowned, arms folded where he leaned in the doorway behind Peter, too full of restless energy to sit down. “What does that mean? Is he going to keep forgetting things?”

Bruce tilted his head, taking a breath as he tried to think of how to explain. “Not necessarily. As you know, the initial blow to the head that he sustained during the mission caused his brain to swell and that's why he had the seizures. The resulting coma gave him time for the swelling to go down but unfortunately, there was damage and we just don’t know the extent of it yet.”

May looked over at Peter as he played with one of the apps Bruce downloaded for him, trying to match words with objects. It was hard to watch her once smart, capable boy have trouble remembering what to call a shirt. 

“And the apha...what is it?”

Bruce nodded, gently correcting her. “Yes, the anomic aphasia was presented almost as soon as he woke up. It just means that while Peter can describe an object and know what it's for, he may have trouble finding the right name for it. This can get better with time and we’ll be working on it with him in therapy.”

Tony pointed to the kid, voice gruff. “And the hand.”

Bruce sighed. When Peter had woken up from the coma he’d been confused and agitated, reaching for May and Tony with a trembling hand and words that didn’t make sense. 

“Hmm num vimm bantum mumn no.” It had mostly just been noises as his right hand shook against Tony’s chest were he pawed for purchase, finally gripping his shirt and tugging on him weakly before falling asleep again. 

May and Tony had freaked out but Peters words and hand had settled down by the time he woke for the second time. His hand didn’t shake constantly but it had appeared again when Peter had realised he was in the med bay, trembling further with every tear that dripped off his wobbling bottom lip. 

Bruce remembered trying to calm the teenager, with no way of explaining that wouldn’t upset him further. 

“W-what do you mean I hurt my arm?”

Bruce had held the boy's hands, trying to hide the tremor from him as he explained. “You’re head, Peter. You hit your head and were asleep for a little while. But everything’s okay and you’re going to get better.”

Now that Peter was sitting calmly in Bruce’s office, headphones on and mind occupied by his game, his hand was still. 

“The tremor can be difficult to manage because it's tied into his emotions. If he’s particularly tired or upset he will have more trouble with it but with practice and occupational therapy that can ease.”

Tony pulled his eyes away from the kid, trying to keep a positive outlook on the whole, horrible situation. “What other damage were you talking about before? What else are we looking at?”

May gently brushed Peters hair out of his face as Bruce answered. “Personality changes, emotional outbursts, sudden lapses of concentration and awareness. He is at a higher risk of seizures and we’ll need to keep an eye on him. So, if anything unusual happens; if he spaces out, forgets where he is, wanders off, you need to tell me right away. And always take note of the time and how long it lasts.”

May’s eyes pricked with tears and she sniffed, trying to keep them at bay so that Peter wouldn’t see. “What are we going to do? How can he go to school or be Spider-Man like this?”

Bruce squeezed his hands tight, trying to keep a level head but it was hard when your patient was someone you cared about. He couldn't be impartial when Peter was the one that was hurt. The poor kid didn’t deserve any of it. 

“With his condition as it is...right now...he can’t. He needs time to heal and adjust. We need to be focusing on physical and occupational therapies as well as medication trials. Anticonvulsants can help with the tremor and the seizures but we need to figure out the best dose and combination to best suit him.”

May sniffled again, coming dangerously close to crying and Bruce offered her a tissue from his desk. “I know this is all very difficult but Peter is alive and we’re all here to help him recover. That’s what’s important.”

May nodded and wiped her eyes, trying to calm herself down. It had been a long few weeks and she was so tired. 

After hearing about Peters accident she’d come to the compound to find him seizing uncontrollably. They hadn’t been able to stop them until they’d taken Peter in for surgery and relieved the pressure in his skull. 

Seeing her nephew shake on the hospital bed and then laying there after the surgery, head bandaged and face covered by the blue bite block that held his breathing tube in place had been one of the worst moments in a life full of worst moments.

She knew Bruce was right and she was grateful to have Peter alive and sitting beside her but she couldn't help but want to fall apart at the thought of Peters bright future snuffing out. 

May wiped her eyes and tried to put on a smile as Peter looked up at her. “May, are you okay?”

His eyebrows creased in concern as he lifted a hand to brush a tear from her cheek. May caught his hand and pressed a kiss to his palm, Peters fingers curling around hers as she smiled. 

“I’m fine, honey. Everything’s fine.”

Peter smiled, the lazy tilt of his mouth easing May’s worry just a little. He looked like himself, like he had before the disastrous mission, as long as you ignored the small spot of shaved hair on the side of his head where he’d been cut open to relieve the pressure on his brain. 

She leaned forward and kissed the spot of shorter hair before brushing her hands through it, ruffling the longer strands over to cover it. 

“Good, cause I’m…” His smile faltered and his eyes drifted to the side as a crease appeared between his eyebrows. “Um. I’m...dammit.” He couldn’t remember the word he wanted. 

Bruce was patient, voice calm and soothing, easing the anxiety in Peter, May and Tony’s chests at once. “It’s okay, take your time. Try to describe it, maybe it’ll come to you.”

Peter clenched his teeth and he frowned, trying to think. He knew what he meant he just...couldnt find it. The stupid word was just gone. It was like when you saw an actor you totally recognised, or knew was in another movie, and the answer is on the tip of your tongue. You know the answer, you do! But the words missing. It’s that frustrating blankness mixed with the infuriating knowledge that you’re supposed to know the word that makes it so annoying. 

“Um...it’s...I need food.” His right hand trembled, frustrating him further and he pressed it into his thigh in an attempt to stop it. 

Bruce nodded. “Starts with an H. Try not to get upset. It’s okay to have a little trouble with it.”

Peter huffed out a breath, eyes narrowing as his voice grew sour. “It’s not okay. I’m supposed to be smart and I can’t even remember the word for… for… UGH!” 

Peter’s foot rose, preparing to stomp down to the floor, but paused when May’s voice met his ears. “Peter.”

The teenager stopped and slowly lowered his foot, head lowered as he looked at the ground, panting. 

May’s voice was quiet as she rubbed her hand over the back of his neck, lightly scratching at the curls of hair resting against the nape. Tony could see the kid's shoulders relax and come down at her touch. “Do you mean you’re hungry?”

Peter nodded quietly, Mays touch calming him enough that his hand stopped shaking, lying still in a fist on his thigh. 

May looked up and gave Bruce a tired smile. “I’ll take him to get something to eat.” 

The doctor nodded and Tony shifted out of the doorway to let the two Parkers through.   
Tony sighed and took Mays empty seat, watching Peter trudge sadly down the hall. “He was close to a meltdown over one word. He has super strength, Bruce. How are we supposed to stop him if he has another outburst?”

The doctor leaned back in his seat, exhausted. He had been going over every symptom and every treatment option for weeks and he still hadn’t figured it all out. “Violent outbursts and fits of anger are, unfortunately, par for the course on this. It’s not his fault. We’ll figure something out.”

Tony slumped down in the chair and rubbed a hand over his forehead. “Yeah. I know we will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More coming! Please let me know what you think! Also the little scene where Peter wakes up and talks mush is from this clip from the fosters https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aY_hNbd9e3c omgggg i love it. Anyway I hope you liked it and I'll try to update soon


	3. Chapter 3

Natasha held up a flash card, holding it for only half a second before Peters bored voice droned out the answer. 

“Boat.”

Another flash card went up. Another bored answer. “House.”

Natasha nodded encouragingly. “Good. Let’s go onto harder ones.”

She picked up a new stack of flashcards and Peter rolled his eyes as he pressed two Lego pieces together. His hand was stable for the moment but Bruce said he still needed to work on his coordination. 

Natasha held up the new cards and waited patiently as Peter searched his mind for the answer.   
His hands paused on his work as he narrowed his eyes at the card. He knew that one. 

“Um...M...microscope.”

Natasha peeked at the card and smiled. “Good job.” 

Peter looked back down to his Lego as Natasha shuffled her cards and held up a new one. For someone who used to be on the decathlon and one of the smartest people in his class, in a school specifically for smart people, it was really hard to sit there and look at dumb flash cards. Especially when he had no idea what the name for the thing on the flash card was. 

Peter’s hands paused where he was pressing two bricks together because he knew that word it was just...too far away to grip. “It’s a…” 

Peter frowned, annoyed at himself and his stupid brain. Natasha’s eyes flickered down to his bad hand, her expression softening.   
“It’s okay, just take your time.” 

Peter pressed his fingers to the Lego bricks he was holding, hand shaking as he tried to think of what the damn word was. The image on the card was rectangle, made of metal and glass. He used it everyday, he had one in his pocket, he should know what it was. 

Peter’s breathing was starting to speed up and he clenched his teeth before Natasha lowered the cards a little, voice worried. “Peter, don’t squeeze so hard, honey.”

Peter blinked and looked down at the plastic bricks in his hand. One of the pieces was close to cracking under the pressure of his fingertips. He let go and turned his face away, sullen. “I don’t want to do cards anymore.”

Natasha paused for a moment before looking at the card in her hand. “That ones a phone. How about you try another one?”

Peter didn’t even look up. It was a phone, of course it was. His lips curled as he sneered and swiped his hand over the table, sending the stack of flashcards to the floor. “I don’t want to!”

Natasha watched the cards scatter, sitting back slightly, away from the teenger. 

A surprised, slightly stern voice came from the doorway. “Peter!” 

The teenagers face snapped towards Tony’s voice, his anger melting away in an instant. “Mr Stark…”

Tony was frowning, clearly disappointed as he looked over the flashcards on the floor. Peter didn’t know how long he’d been standing there but suddenly his outburst felt very embarrassing and he felt his cheeks heat.

“I’m sorry, I-” His gaze found Natasha, who had leaned away from him when he’d shouted and his stomach dropped. He’d scared her. 

Peter pushed up from his seat and started picking the cards up from the floor, a few of them dropping from his right when it shook too badly to hold them. He didn’t look at the assassin when he spoke to her, voice quiet and upset. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I just got frus...f...angry.”

Natasha shared a look with Tony, the both of them out of their depth at what to do. What were you supposed to do when a teenager had tantrums that he couldn’t control? Tony gave the woman a small smile and a nod, speaking to her without words. She nodded back and left without another word, leaving Tony with Peter.

Tony took a breath and knelt, helping Peter pick up the cards. “It’s okay, I know it’s not your fault. We just have to find ways to deal with this. Maybe we should talk to Bruce?”

Peter didn’t meet his eyes, gaze fixed on his trembling fingers. “I’m tired. I just want to go to bed.”

It wasn’t entirely true. Peter was tired in a more emotional sense but he did just want to lay down.

Tony scooped up the rest of the cards and placed them on the desk. “It’s almost dinner time and you haven’t eaten since this morning. How about you have a break from therapy and come have something to eat? We can play that new video game you like?”

Peter paused, taking time to think and Tony tried again, voice quiet. “Come on, Pete. It’s not good for you to wallow and...I really missed hanging out with you, bud.”

Peter really felt like sulking alone in his room but Tony sounded so hopeful and he really was hungry. It might be nice to spend some time with his mentor, just feeling like a regular kid again. “Okay. Thanks, Mr Stark.”

Tony’s face lit up with a smile as he took Peters hand to help him from the floor. “Awesome! What are you hungry for? We can order in from anywhere in town, even the places that don’t deliver.”

Tony let go of the kids hand to instead press his own against the small of Peters back, leading him out to the lounge as he kid hummed, thinking. “Umm…Pizza?”

Tony nodded as they walked into the main living area where the avengers were milling around in on the couches and in the adjoining kitchen and dining area. 

“Great! Friday, order uh...twelve should be enough right? Order twelve large pizzas from Stefano’s.” He turned to Peter again, eyes narrowed as he tried to think. “You can have three right? Or do you want four? How hungry are you?”

Peter’s appetite had grown after being bitten by that spider and he’d always felt bad for being so expensive to feed, but Tony was a billionaire and he was used to the big appetites of Steve and Thor. So, Peter answered honestly. 

“Three sounds good. Thanks.”

Tony patted his back as they sat on the couch, Tony pulling out his phone to swipe through options. “Great. Friday, get Peter the margherita, godfather and la mafiosa all with extra tomatoes, olive oil and greens. And get him a fruit salad on the side.”

Peter gave him a look, eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the weird specific requests. Tony shrugged and looked back to his phone, embarrassed. “They’re food that help brain recovery.”

Peter let out a small smile as Tony shouted out to the rest of the Avengers. “Friday’s taking orders!”

A chain of shouted orders went up, Friday taking them all as Tony set up the video game. 

It didn’t take long to get the food there with Mr Starks generous tip being a good motivator and pretty soon Peter was eating pizza and beating Tony's ass at mortal kombat. 

Sam laughed hard enough, with enough pizza in his mouth that Steve watched him carefully, worried he’d choke. “Tony, you’re not even close to beating him, man! Use your combos!”  
Tony kicked a foot towards the soldier, barely managing to hit his ass as he grumbled. “What do you think I’m trying to do? He’s faster than me!”

Peter laughed, feeling like his old self again as his character hit Tony for the fourth time in a row. “Sorry, Mr Stark. To be fair, I have played this more than you.”

Clint turned from where he sat on the armrest of Natasha’s chair, waving his pizza around as he gestured. “No, no, don’t defend him. He sucks!”

Tony opened his mouth to protest when the video game declared Peter the winner. ‘Finish him!’

Peter laughed again and stuck his tongue out the side of his mouth as he concentrated on his final combo move. 

The avengers let out a cheer and a few insults for Tony as they all watched Peters character rip the others spine out. 

Tony playfully covered Peters eyes with his hands. “That is disgusting! Avert your eyes!”

Peter pushed his hand away giggling as Bucky reached for Tony’s controller. “My turn! Steve, help me with this thing. How do I do the kick thing that Peter did?”

It was a great night. The avengers all gathered around eating and playing video games together. Peter felt better than he had in days, his face aching from smiling so much. If only it had lasted. 

Bucky was facing off against Peter, with the help of Sam and Steve beside him, telling him what to do but it wasn’t until Peters character stopped moving that they noticed anything was wrong. 

Bucky, very slowly, entered his combo move and watched his character kick Peters’ one who didn’t move at all. 

The soldier grumbled, trying to make his fighter use her sword. “You don’t have to go easy on me just because I’m old, Peter.”

Tony laughed, leaning back on the couch as he looked over to the teenager. “Yeah, Peter. Kick his ass. Don’t say ass though.” 

The kid didn’t respond and the game character didn’t move. Tony leaned forward, dread eating at his insides. 

“Peter? Buddy?” The kid was sitting, controller still in his hands but his face was blank, eyes glassy and unfocused. 

The room went quiet, all faces turned to Peters as Tony took his shoulder and shook it a little, anxiety tearing up his throat when he got no response. 

His heart pounded and his lungs squeezed but he took a deep breath and focussed on Bruce’s earlier words. ‘He might zone out and forget where he is from time to time. If that happens just stay calm and stay with him.’

Tony tried to keep his voice as steady as he could. “He’s having a seizure. Someone time it.”

Steve looked down at his watch as Clint spoke up, words quiet. “I thought seizures were shaky and-”

Tony held Peters shoulder, thumb absentmindedly sweeping back and forth. “Some are but this is a absence seizure. He’ll zone out and go blank and then he’ll come back and won't remember where he is. Bruce said it could happen. It’ll be okay.”

Despite his own reassuring words, Tony did not feel like it was okay. Peter was just sitting there, no recognition in his eyes, nothing. It was terrifying seeing him look so empty, so gone. But Peter needed him to be calm so, Tony rubbed his hand soothingly over the kids back, voice calm and low. 

“You’re okay, Peter. Everything’s fine. You’re right here with all of us.”

Steve kept an eye on his watch and after just over thirty seconds, Peter began to blink, forehead creasing as he frowned. 

“Peter? Buddy, can you hear me?” Tony leaned down a little, trying to catch the teenagers eyes and finally, his eyes focused and he nodded. 

He was slow, looking confused and sleepy as he rubbed his eyes and mumbled. “Hmm what? What hap…happened?” 

Tony swept a hand over Peters forehead, brushing his hair back as he got a good look at his face. “You just drifted off for a little bit. It’s okay. You feeling alright?”

Peter dropped the controller, flinching when it thumped on the carpet and curling into himself, pulling his legs up onto the couch with him as he let out a moan. 

Tony wrapped an arm around the kid and pulled him to his side. Peter immediately sunk to him, resting his head on Tony's shoulder as the mechanics hand ran through his hair. 

“I’ll take that as a no. Bruce said you might be a little confused or tired afterwards. Do you want to go see him?”

Peter lifted his bad hand, thankfully not noticing the way it was shaking, and curled his fingers in Tony’s shirt as he shook his head against his mentors shoulder. He looked like a sleepy toddler saying no to bedtime and Tony couldn’t help but kiss the top of his head as Peter tried to get his words out. 

“N-no. Just w-want Mr...Mr St...you.”

Tony couldn’t hold back the smile that spread over his face and he hugged Peter closer, patting Peters bad hand. “You got me, kid.”

Tony felt relaxed and happy for the first time since before Peters TBI but when he looked up he saw everyone's faces staring with little smiles. 

“What are you guys looking at? Play the game, dumb-asses.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know of the end feels abrupt or whatever tbh I didn't read over it because I spent all day on it lol thats how distracted I've been it took me so long but anyway I hope you like it??


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the support for this and for your patience for this new chapter it's longer than the others so I hope you like it

The video games had gone on after Peter’s seizure, although various Avenger eyes kept finding their way back to the teenager, worried for their youngest teammate. He was okay, just tired and fuzzy and Tony kept an arm around him until Peter finally fell asleep on his shoulder. 

The mechanic excused himself from the room, lifting Peter into his arms to carry back to his room. He’d held the kid as carefully as he could, Peter’s head on his shoulder, quietly shushing him when he stirred. 

Peter's room had been too far from Tony’s so he had it moved and now they were just down the hall from each other. Peter held on to him when he lowered him down onto the bed and Tony smiled as he carefully tugged the kid's hands from his shirt. 

“Shh, you’re okay. Goodnight Spiderbaby.” 

He didn’t like leaving the kid alone for long, his overprotective nature having gone into overdrive ever since peters initial seizure but he knew the teenager would be fine through the night. Especially since he had monitors and alarms set all throughout the compound in case anything happened. 

Tony pulled the blankets up over Peters' shoulders, brushed a hand through those brown curls and left the young avenger to his dreams. 

The next morning came as any other had. The sun came up and Friday adjusted Peter's room settings to let it in slowly, allowing him to wake up naturally. 

And he felt good. Maybe it would be a good day. 

Peter picked up his phone from his bedside table, quickly flicking through his notifications for anything interesting. It was mostly just stuff from Ned and a few texts from MJ before a new notification dinged and a banner popped up at the top of his screen. 

“Breakfast and meds!”

Peter groaned and rolled over, shoving his phone under his pillow. It was no longer just any old morning, it was now another morning and another reminder of all his issues. He wouldn’t be going to school with his friends, he wouldn’t even get to see his friends until Ned could come for a visit. 

Peter just wanted to stay in his bed and not have to go to therapy but it was no use, he knew that any moment a knock would come at his door and Tony would-

“Peter! Breakfast!” 

Peter sighed and opened his eyes as Tony opened the door, peeking his head in with a smile. “Hey, buddy. Come have something to eat with your Aunt and I before she leaves for work.” 

He left and Peter scrubbed a hand over his face, tired. Bruce had said that he’d need more sleep to heal his brain and he wished he could sleep in a bit more.

Peter flipped his blankets back and Friday played some happy, bouncy music to encourage him as he got dressed. He sent a Snapchat to Ned with a smile and a request for him to send his notes from class before heading for the kitchen. 

“There’s my handsome boy!” May was at the stove but made her way over as soon as Peter entered, wrapping her arms around him and squeezing tight. 

“Hey May.” 

She smiled and released him, taking his face between her palms. “How are you feeling, honey?” 

Peter smiled back though he was sort of sick of being asked that question. “I’m okay. You making breakfast?” 

She turned to the stove, about to answer, and Peter sent a quick look to Tony. His eyebrows were drawn down, eyes wide as he shook his head and Tony got the gist. 

“How about I make you something, May. You sit with Pete and I’ll make us all pancakes.” 

May agreed and sat at the table with her nephew, taking a pill box out of her purse, one of the ones with each day of the week separated. 

“I’ve organised all your pills so, you don’t have to worry about forgetting them. You can keep this beside your bed to have when you wake up. Now, Tony and I talked to Dr Banner about your medication making you nauseous so, he’s given you this new one.” 

Peter groaned and May handed him a little tab, his new pill wrapped under the foil. “This one you take every morning. Just slip it under your tongue and it’ll dissolve.”

The teenager peeled back the wrap and took out the tiny, powdery pill, screwing up his face as he placed it under his tongue. “It t-tastes gr...g...yucky.”

Tony gave a little laugh and Peter couldn’t tell if it was because of his complaint or the word he’d substituted for the one he couldn’t get out. “You get used to it. It’s not so bad after a while.”

Peter frowned as May popped open the cap for the rest of his meds. “You take these?”

Tony shrugged, smiling down at the pancakes he was flipping onto a plate. “Sometimes. They’re good for hangovers.”

May ignored his comment and pulled Peters palm towards her, tipping his pills into it. “And these ones you take in the morning with food and a big glass of water but you have two others to take with dinner.”

Peter frowned down at the assortment of medication. He knew Bruce had explained them to him when he’d prescribed them but he honestly couldn’t remember what they were. “What are these exactly?” 

Tony walked over, plate in hand and pointed to the various tablets. “Those two are for your seizures. That ones to keep your brain from swelling anymore. That one helps to stabilize your mood. That one was made especially for you, it helps to dampen your senses just enough so that it’s not overwhelming for your healing brain. And those three are just vitamins.” 

He laid a plate of pancakes in front of Peter, the huge stack covered in whipped cream and fresh fruit and placed a tall glass of water beside it. Peter shuffled his pills and sighed, throwing them down and swallowing them all with a gulp of water. 

“Good job. May, how many pancakes would you like?”

Peter grabbed his fork and got to eating, glad that at least pancakes hadn’t changed. 

::::::::::::::::::::::::

“Peter, try again.” May held the card up, face passive. She wasn’t annoyed or impatient even though she’d been holding the same card for three minutes waiting for her nephew to get the right answer. 

Peter, however, was very annoyed. “I already told you it’s a ha-hammer!” His voice was hard and insistent and May would have considered it rude before Peters injury but now she ignored it. 

She shook her head, voice calm and slow as if she had all the time in the world and it just pissed the teenager off more. “Not quite. It’s a tool, yes but it’s not a hammer. What does this tool do?”

Peter curled his hands into fists, right one trembling where he pressed it to the tabletop. “You turn it to put screws in something.”

May nodded. “Good. A hammer hammers nails, which means this is not a hammer. What's it called?” 

Peter searched his mind, looking for the answer as he stared at the stupid fucking flash card. “It’s a ha...ham...UGH!”

May flinched as Peter cried out in rage and frustration, fist slamming against the table to make it shake. 

May put the card down and pushed her chair away from the table, making her way over to her nephew as his anger turned to tears. 

Peter closed his eyes, throat closing up as he pressed his fists to his temples. “I’m trying to say the o-other word but it keeps coming out wrong.”

May knelt in front of him, hand on his knee. “It’s okay. It’s just going to take a little while for your brain to form those pathways again.”

The young Avenger kicked at the table leg, making the wood groan in protest as it scraped against the floor several feet. “It’s not okay! Stop saying that!”

May flinched again at the outburst but didn’t move away, reaching out and pressing her fingers to the back of Peter’s neck and gently massaging, her voice smooth and soft. “Take a deep breath and relax your shoulders. I know you’re frustrated so, we’re going to take a moment until you calm down. I’m going to sit here with you for as long as you need.”

May and Tony had been talking to Bruce and researching ways to help TBI patients with their anger and Peter was honestly grateful that she understood him when he yelled at her. He didn’t mean to, he loved his aunt but the anger was something he couldn’t control and it always came on so hard and fast. 

He wanted to punch something and rip those dumb flash cards to shreds but May’s hands were smoothing the hair at the nape of his neck just like she always did when he got frustrated or stressed out and it melted him until he was slumped in his chair. 

The anger drained away and he was left with just the hopelessness of having a mind that didn’t do what it was supposed to. 

Peter let out a small sob and rubbed his eyes with his shaky hand. “I hate this.”

May felt like crying too. She would have done anything to take it all from Peter, to make it easier on him if only just for a while. “Oh, baby I know.”

She momentarily got up, to grab a pencil and pad from where they waited beside the stack of flashcards on the table and placed it in front of the teenager. “Write the word you’re trying to say. Some people say it helps.”

Peter sniffed, breaths jumping from him as he tried to calm down and he took the pencil, writing wobbly letters over the page. 

“S-screw...driver.”

May smiled and brushed the boy's tears away, his soft cheek tinged pink under her gentle fingers. “Good job, honey. I know it's frustrating but it will get easier. You just have to keep trying.”

Peter nodded, his breaths still jumpy and eyes wet. It was all so frustrating and he felt so stupid and helpless and he hated every moment of it. It wasn’t fair. He couldn’t stop the sobs that erupted from him and May immediately wrapped him up in a hug. 

“Oh, Peter, honey shh.”

Strong arms hugged her back as Peter whined into her shoulder. “I’m sorry for yelling at you. I didn’t mean it.”

May brushed her hand over the back of his hair as she pressed a kiss to his temple. “I forgive you, Petey baby. I know it’s not your fault.”

She may have understood but Peter still felt awful and he sniffed his tears away before pulling from Mays hug and wiping his eyes with his sleeve. “I do-don’t wanna do cards anymore. I h-have a...um...I don’t know the word.”

May brushed his fringe out of his eyes, his head hung low. “Can you describe it?” 

Peter hummed as he thought, before tapping a finger to his temple. “Hurts.”

May nodded, offering a suggestion. “A headache?”

Peter nodded and stood, heading off to his room. “Yeah. Thanks. I’m gonna go to bed. Night, May.”

His aunt watched him leave, feeling tired herself and wishing it was all easier. “What am I going to do with him, Ben?” She wished her husband were there. He and Peter were so close and she missed him so much. “How do I help him?”

::::::::::::::

Tony knocked on Peters bedroom door, peeking his head in to see Peter shuffling through flashcards on his bed, soft yellow light from his lamp making his hair look more honey than brown. 

“Hey, May said you had trouble with therapy today. You want to talk about it?”

Peter looked up, his brown eyes wide and soft as he shrugged. Tony closed the door behind him and made his way over to sit beside the kid on the bed. 

The cards slipped against each other at the dip of the mattress under Tony, falling from the small piles Peter had made and he watched as the teenager gently corrected them with his finger. His hand was steady, and Tony relaxed, knowing that Peter was calm. 

“She said that these have been giving you some trouble.”

Peter didn’t lift his eyes from the stacks of cards he was making on the bed, placing one with a picture of a kitchen on top of one with a turtle as he spoke. “My medication makes me sleepy. I can’t t-think and it makes it harder.”

Tony nodded and watched Peter look at a card for a few seconds before flipping it over to see the answer and adding it to a pile. “It’s probably the one for your anger. It’s like a mild sedative to control your outbursts.”

Peter paused, soccer card hovering over another showing a dress. He didn’t say anything, just slowly resumed his movements and put the card down. Tony pointed to them. 

“What are the different piles for?”

Peter gestured, voice quiet. “Those are ones I know. Those are ones I know but can’t say and those are the ones that I got wrong.”

The first pile was the smallest of the three and Tony hummed. “Hm. Aphasia’s tricky, huh?”

Peter just nodded silently and picked up another card, showing it to Tony. “Basement?”

Tony shook his head and pointed upwards. “Opposite of that.”

Peter’s eyebrows furrowed as he opened his mouth, trying to speak. “Bas…no.”

He gave up and sighed, putting the card on the second pile before speaking again. “I yelled at May. She didn’t even get mad at me. She sh-should have.”

Tony shook his head watching Peters' hands. They were still steady. “She knows it’s not your fault. This whole situation is hard on you, we know that.”

Peter put down his cards but didn’t take his eyes off them. “Was she upset?”

Tony paused, not knowing if he should be honest or just how honest he should be. “...not with you. She just doesn’t know how to help.”

Peter finally looked up at Tony, those doe eyes slightly glassy. Poor kid was drugged up to his eyeballs, no wonder he was having trouble concentrating. 

“She does help! She helps c-ca...makes me not angry.”

Tony’s heart ached at Peters inability to say the word 'calm’ and he gently pulled the flashcards from the boy's hands. “Maybe you should go talk to her and tell her that. She really loves you, bud and right now you two need to stick together.”

Peter nodded and pushed up from his bed, his carefully laid out piles slipping into one muddled mix of cards. “Okay, I’ll make her some tea. Uncle Ben always used to after they had a fight.”

He went to his closet and grabbed a hoodie as Tony gathered all the cards into a pile and stood. “Good. I’ll take these and leave you to it.”

Peter waited until he left, watching the door close and hearing Tony's footsteps fade down the hall, waiting until he was sure the man was gone before moving. Pulling on his hoodie and tugging the hem over his tummy, Peter went over to his side table and pulled out his pill box. Tony had said it was his anger meds making him so drowsy and zombie-like. Peter popped open the lids of each day and took the sedatives out, holding them in his palm as he used his other hand to snap the lids all shut and put the box away. 

He couldn't do therapy and get better if he couldn't concentrate, could he? Something in him told Peter that he shouldn’t be flushing his pills but he was too tired to care and he watched them swirl down the drain without an ounce of remorse. 

::::::::

May brushed through her hair as she went through the day in her mind. Maybe she shouldn’t have been so insistent that Peter get the word right. Maybe she should have told him the answer and moved on right away. 

But her attention was diverted as a soft knock came at her door. “Come in!”

The door opened and Peter walked in carrying a cup of tea. “Hey.” There was a small, shy smile on his face just the same as when he was three and was asking for another cookie.

May smiled as Peter shuffled over, careful not to spill the drink on the plush carpet of the guest bedroom Tony had let her stay in. The teenager held it out to her and she placed a hand on her heart. “For me? Thank you, sweetheart.”

Peter nodded, quiet in a way that he never used to be and sat on the edge beside on her on the little bench in front of her bureau. “Thanks for helping today. I’m glad I have you here with me.”

May put her tea down and wrapped her arm around her nephew. “I love you so much, Peter and you know I’ll always be here for you, no matter what.”

Peter laid his head on her shoulder, watching them both in the mirror. “I know. I l-love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry I know that was quite sad and its probably going to be that way for a little longer but it will have a happy ending so just hold out for it and it'll be worth it. Please let me know what you think?


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a little longer I hope its okay?

Peter pushed the call button and adjusted the screen of his laptop as he waited for the skype call to connect. 

“Hey, Peter!”

Peters face lit up as Neds smiling face filled the screen. “Hey! Man, I missed you.”

Ned nodded emphatically. “Me too! Oh my god, come to school already! You don’t have to do any work just come to hang out with me.”  
Peter was about to answer when a hand playfully shoved Ned and MJ’s face took up the screen. “Ned, you’re supposed to study in study hall, you idiot. Oh, Peter, hey.”

Peter smiled and waved a little as MJ sat down beside Ned. “Hey! It’s so good to s-see you guys! I wish I could go to sch...s…” Peters' heart thumped in his chest as the word got stuck in his mouth and he quickly skipped ahead. “-But Bruce said I needed to wait until I was ready.”

Ned nodded, smile faltering a little. “Yeah, that’s a good idea. Just take some time to heal, man you deserve it.”

MJ creased her eyebrows and leaned forward in her seat, tone conversational. “Everyone's heard about the car accident and the TBI.”

Ned and Peters's eyes quickly met, a silent exchange taking place before their other friend could notice. The cover story for Peters Spider-Man mishap was a car accident and Ned was the only one who knew the truth. He was also the only one outside of the compound who had seen Peter at all since the accident. 

MJ carried on. “Miss Wright made everyone in class sign a card for you. Did you get it?”

Peter nodded and pulled a card off his desk where it sat behind his laptop. “Yeah, thanks. And thanks for c-crossing out whatever Flash w-wrote.”

Ned nodded, hope evident in his voice. “No problem. But hey, I haven’t seen you since you were in the coma. Do you think we could visit soon?”

Peter fumbled for an answer. “I-I want you to but I don’t know if Mr Stark will think it’s a good...um a good...What's the word?”

Peter mumbled under his breath, trying to find the word he was looking for. He couldn't find it and his mind started to slip a little, thoughts drifting away before he could remember to hold on to them. What was he looking for? What was he doing? Peter looked down at his hands, frowning. Why was he holding the card his class sent him? 

Peter put it down and looked back up at his computer screen to see Ned and MJ watching him with matching concerned expressions. 

His face lit up with excitement and he leaned forward. “Oh hey, guys! I haven’t seen you in ages! Thanks for sending the c-card and thanks for crossing out whatever Flash wrote.”

Ned looked so worried but he forced a smile on his face and nodded. “Hey, Peter.” 

Peter’s smile fell, not knowing why his friends looked so worried. He lifted a shaky hand to his head where the little bald patch from his surgery was finally growing hair, smoothing it over self consciously. “What's wrong? Why are you l-looking at me like that?”

Ned shook his head as MJ watched him, swallowing silently. “Nothing’s wrong! Everything’s fine. How are you doing?”

Peter dropped his hand and tried to think of something positive to say. “Um good? I beat Mr Stark in M-mortal Kombat the other day. He doesn’t know h-how to do combo moves at all.”

Ned nodded, eyes looking misty and Peters bad hand started shaking harder, worsening as he grew more nervous. MJ looked sadder with each stuttered word and Peter lowered his head, voice becoming quiet. “H-hows class?”

Ned tried to keep his voice steady but Peter heard the tremor anyway. “Boring without you. You look better though. When I saw you in the coma...Dude, I was so worried but you seem to be doing well.”

Peter kneaded his bad hand in his good one as he eagerly agreed. “Yeah, it’s just the w-words that are hard and I still get seizures sometimes. Bruce said he doesn’t want me go-going to school till we get them under con…” Peter lost the word again and looked up to his friends’ worried faces, voice timid. “What's the word?”

MJ offered one, eyes wide. “Control?”

Peter nodded and curled into himself where he sat at his desk, shoulders slumping. “Yeah.”

A bell rang in the background of the call and Ned and MJ turned. “Sorry, class is over. We have to go. I’ll call you again soon okay? And we can keep texting. Get better soon! Love you!”

Peter smiled at his best friend, a genuine, relaxed smile as he waved at the screen. “I love you too! Bye!”

The screen went black and Peter closed his laptop, feeling suddenly very alone in his quiet room. 

Ned and MJ were bridges back to his old life and his old self but they weren’t there with him and he missed them so much. Peter pushed himself up from his chair and left his room, making his way to the kitchen where Tony blending fruit for smoothies. 

“Hey, Mr Stark?”

The mechanic turned, a handful of blueberries in his hold. “Hey, kiddo. You hungry?”

Peter shook his head and hopped up onto the bench, legs swinging as he watched Tony drop the berries in with the bananas and almond milk. “No, I’m okay.”

Tony turned at his melancholy voice, eyebrows pinched. “What's wrong? I thought you were skyping Ned today?”

Peter nodded and looked down at his feet as they kicked lightly against the cupboards. “I did but...I think I zoned out for a bit. I don’t remember starting the call, just looking up and they were waiting with these...worried e-expre...epre…”

Tony turned, patiently offering another option. “Faces?”

Peter nodded and Tony rubbed a hand over his arm. “I’m sorry, buddy. That must be hard.”

The teenager nodded and sniffed, blinking the mist away from his eyes. “Yeah. I can see that they know something’s wrong and Ned always looks so scared when I forget a word or mention my seizures. But he’s my best friend. I just want things to go back to normal. Mr Stark, do you think maybe N-Ned could come to visit?”

Tony turned, an apologetic frown on his face and he tried to explain in the nicest way, finding no easy routes. “I know you miss him, buddy, but until we’re sure you can control your anger we just can’t. It’s not safe. I’m sorry, I know that's not the answer you want to hear. But you can still FaceTime.”

Peter’s face dropped and Tony immediately felt bad, reaching for the kid as he hopped off the bench but he was too slow and Peter walked away head low. “No thanks.”

The young Avenger walked through the compound, not knowing where his feet were taking him until he found himself in the gym. Steve and Sam were there already, boxing together with big gloves on their hands but they stopped when they saw Peter. 

“Hey, kid. You okay? You look a little down.”

Steve slipped his gloves off and tossed them into his duffle as Peter answered. “Yeah...No. I just miss the way things were before. I tried Skyping my friends from school but I just kept forgetting words. They looked so scared. Maybe it’s better that they stay away.”

Sam tossed his gloves too and made his way over, hands on his hips as his brow creased, but not in pity, more like determination. “This must all be really hard on you. I can’t imagine going through what you did. For the record, I hear you’re doing really well.”

The corner of Peters' mouth pulled up a smidge as he looked at the soldier. “Really?”

Sam nodded, giving Peter a friendly thump on the arm. “Yeah, man. Bruce said you were lucky to be alive, much less talking but here you are. Plus, dude, you can bench press like, a house. Stutter or not, that is awesome.”

Peter huffed out a little laugh at the exaggeration and smiled, feeling a little better. “Thanks.”

Steve gestured to the glass doors leading outside. “Hey, we were just about to go on a run. You wanna come?” He jabbed an elbow to Sam as he winked at Peter. “Don’t worry, we don’t have to wait for Sam. We can go for a real run.”

Peter let out a giggle and Steve smiled at the sound as Sam made a dramatic fuss. “Oh, okay. I see how it is. Just remember who the hundred-year-old here is, grandpa.”

Steve let out a loud laugh and threw his head back, hand smacking against Sam’s chest. “Grandpa! You are getting your ass beat, Wilson. Come on, Peter. Let’s show him what real running looks like.”

Peter followed them out, feeling way better than he had before. 

Steve hadn’t been kidding about showing Sam, and the teenager followed Steve as they ran laps around the falcon. 

But after a few laps they settled down and the three ran together. Peter found himself smiling through the rest of the jog as they built up a large appetite for lunch. 

By the time they’d made it back, Sam's back was drenched in sweat and Peter and Steve felt nice and warmed up. Steve slapped a gentle hand on Peters back, eyes calm and soft. “Feeling better?”

Peter nodded as Sam wheezed beside him. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Sam leaned forward and rested his hands on his knees. “No problem, man. Anytime you wanna talk or hang out just let us know. Just not right now cause I think I’m going to throw up.”

Steve laughed and tugged both Sam and Peter to the kitchen for lunch. “Come on, drama queen.”

:::::::::

Tony had made smoothies for everyone and spread out a table of fruit and other healthy snacks for the team of Avengers and the dining room quickly became loud with chatter. 

May talked with Natasha as they drank their smoothies, Bruce offering his thoughts every once in a while as Clint, Rhodey and Bucky discussed weapons over a plate of oranges. 

Tony smiled when Peter walked in, only for it to immediately turn into a frown at the sight of Sam. “Oh, absolutely not. You’re not stinking up my kitchen.”

Sam laughed, grabbing a peach and tossing it between his hands. “What are you, my mother?”

Bucky chuckled from across the table. “Martha Stewart.”

Tony rolled his eyes at the both of them and lead Peter to the table. “Get some food, Pete. Before the neanderthals eat it all.”

The teenager nodded, hungry after the run. “Thanks. Steve, can you pass me that apple?”

The super soldier nodded and obliged, politely manoeuvring between the gaggle of heroes to grab the fruit. “Here you go.”

Peter studied the fruit in Steve's outstretched hand, frowning as his brain tried to fit puzzle pieces where they didn’t belong. “No, I wanted an apple.”

Steve paused, looking down at the round, red fruit in his hand. “This is an apple kiddo.” 

Faces started to turn their way as Peter began to stutter, growing agitated as he tried to understand. “W-what’s the pink one, then?” 

Steve looked back to the table of fruit, spotting the one that Peter was looking at. “That’s watermelon.”

The room grew quiet, faces turning their way as Peter’s voice grew hard. “No, it’s not.” 

Steve tried again, reaching a hand out to try and placate the boy. “Peter-“

But the young Avenger wasn’t having it, voice rising in anger as he started to lose control. “No, it’s not! I know what it is! I’m not stupid!” 

The room was silent, all eyes on Peter as his fingers curled into fists at his sides. His voice was nothing like his usual polite tone, it was angry and loud and May flinched back in her chair from the force of it. 

Tony could see the situation escalating and quickly made his way over, hands up in case Peter got defensive. “Hey, how about we calm down? Peter, no one's calling you stupid. Grab your fruit and sit down.” 

The room was tense and quiet, everyone on edge as they waited to see what would happen because they knew that it could go very wrong very quickly. 

Peter was quiet, eyebrows drawn down over dark eyes that the mechanic hardly recognized but he took a deep breath and slowly took the apple from Steve’s hand. 

Tony nodded and everyone relaxed a little, shoulders coming down and held breaths releasing.   
“Good. Now, what do you want to do this afternoon? Because-”

Tony didn’t get to finish his sentence. Instead, he was interrupted when Peter threw his apple at the wall across the room. He threw it so hard the fruit exploded everywhere, juice and bits of it flying over everything. 

May let out a surprised scream at the sudden outburst and all eyes were yet again on the teenager. 

Tony panted, heart thrumming too fast in his chest at the surprise, shoulders pulled up as he watched the kid storm out. 

“Shit.”

They watched him leave, knowing not to follow him lest they trigger another meltdown. Tony pulled his phone out of his pocket and pulled up live security camera footage of Peter making his way to his room. He was practically shaking with rage, hands in tight fists as he made his way to his bedroom. But he never got there. Instead, Tony watched the teenager slam his fist against the wall, punching a hole right through it before he sunk to his knees, turning to press his back to the wall.

He sat there and pushed his palms to his forehead, fingers twisting in his hair, almost as if he were pulling at it. Tony felt bad for invading his privacy but he needed to know that Peter was safe, and he pressed the corner of the screen, activating the sound. 

Peter thumped his head back against the wall as he muttered to himself, fingers pulling at his curls. “Stupid, moron. You ruined it. You need to calm down. Calm down, Peter. Calm down, Spider-Man. I’m okay. I’m okay.” His hands slipped from his hair and he pulled his knees up to his chest, pressing his forehead to them and wrapping his arms around himself. 

He was trying to hold himself together, alone in the hallway and Tony watched, not knowing how to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im sorry that this is kinda depressing? Some people have said its too sad to read so if thats the case I understand I will try to add some happy moments in too but this is a TBI its gonna be hard for Peter to recover thats just how it is. 
> 
> I really hope that you at least enjoy some of it and if you do let me know?


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyyy so sorry this took so damn long. I've had a bit of writers block but I'm pushing through it for y'all so I hope you like this? I know its not that good but its made with love

Peter smothered a whimper and sucked in a deep breath as he wiped his eyes on his sleeve. It took a while but his anger had dissipated, leaving nothing but embarrassment. He couldn’t believe he’d lost his cool again. No wonder they wanted to sedate him. May’s frightened face sprang back to his mind and he scrubbed his hand harder over his eyes, trying to stop tears from pricking back up. 

He didn’t want to face any of them ever again but he had to and he knew it. He needed to apologize and clean up his mess both literally and figuratively. 

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Tony watched Peter slowly pull himself together, brushing his sleeve over his face and fixing his hair as he got to his feet. He paused as he saw the damage to the wall, a fist-sized hole punched right through. His fingers brushed against the mess and he cursed softly, Tony watching him closely for any signs he hurt his hand. 

Rhodey came to stand beside him, peeking at his phone screen. “He okay?”

Tony watched Peter start to make his way back and put his phone in his pocket. “Yeah, he’s calmed down now.”

Peter walked in a few moments later, head low and voice wobbly, sleeves pulled over his hands. “I’m sorry. I just got con-confused about the words and I-l get so angry that I can't control it. I didn’t mean to scare anyone. I’m sorry for making a mess and for yelling. I’ll clean it up.”

He grabbed a cloth from the bench and started cleaning smashed bits of apple off the ground, ducking his face away when Steve knelt down beside him, picking up bits with his fingers.

“It’s okay. We know you don't mean to. It’s going to take some time to learn to deal with it but Sam and I meant what we said. You can always come talk to us if you need help. You can ask anyone here.”

Peter just nodded and looked away, not trusting his voice to be stable enough to speak. He could practically feel the pity emanating from everyone in the room and his cheeks flushed red with shame. 

He cleaned up in silence, careful not to look at anyone, clearly still upset. Tony didn't know what to do. The kid didn’t want to talk but he couldn’t control his anger and as hard as it was to admit, it meant he was dangerous. 

Bruce felt the same way and they waited until Peter had gone back to his room to try and talk to him about it. 

Tony knocked on the teenager's door and pushed it open at Peters call. 

“Hey, buddy. Do you mind if we come in and talk about what happened today?”

Peter kept his eyes on the notes Ned sent from school and shrugged. 

Bruce and Tony exchanged a look between them before Bruce began, voice gentle and hesitant. “First of all, you need to know that no one blames you. We all know that the outbursts of anger are a result of the brain injury.”

Peter fidgeted, looking uncomfortable even talking about it but Bruce persevered. “If you’re having trouble with your anger maybe we should look at upping your dosage of-”

Peter didn’t look up from his work but Tony watched his shoulders tense as his voice grew stiff. “No, I’m fine. I don’t want any more.”

Bruce’s mouth closed as he frowned, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his sweater and Tony tried instead.   
“Peter, it might help to-”

“I said NO!” Peter’s face snapped up, eyes hot with anger. His hand tightened into a fist and his pencil snapped between his fingers. The sound pulled the teenagers gaze back down and he blew out a frustrated breath at the sight of the ruined pencil. 

“Dammit.” 

Tony kept quiet as Peter carefully held back his temper and put the end half of the pencil down on his desk before continuing to write. He was clearly not up for any more talk about his medication and Tony pulled on Bruce’s arm. “We’ll talk later, Peter.”

::::::::

“I hate talking behind his back like this.” Tony sent a furtive glance to the door, mumble barely audible in the living room full of Avengers. 

Rhodes crossed his arms, giving Tony an apologetic frown. He felt bad too, they all did. “I know, man. Believe me. But we need to talk about how to manage the kid's anger.” 

Steve leaned forward on the couch, resting his elbows on his knees. “I care about Peter too, and we know he’s not at fault but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s dangerous.” 

Bruce watched as Tony’s hands curled into fists, and quickly interjected before anyone else could say their piece. “The point is, we can use strategies to help Peter. Things like reducing stress and backing off when he says no.” 

Natasha lifted her feet to rest on the coffee table, draping one leg over Clint’s where he sat beside her. 

“Reduce stress how?”

Bruce pushed his glasses up his nose as he thought. “Don’t make a big deal if he gets confused or gets something wrong. Give him space, don’t give him too many options to choose from. Just, try to make sure the only thing he has to worry about is his therapy.”

Bucky zipped up his hoodie, dark eyebrows creased. “What do we do if he does get angry? You know he can take most of us in a fight.”

Tony stepped forward, shoulders tensing at the suggestion that anyone would put a hand on Peter. “It won’t come to a fight. If he gets angry just back off and give him space but...keep an eye on him. Our main priority is to keep him safe. That’s all.”

It was easier said than done. Way easier. 

Peter was difficult to reason with if he got confused and most of the Avengers just didn’t know what to do. They tried their best, remembering Bruce's advice.

“Peter, you can’t go out in your Spider-Man suit until you’re seizure free, remember?”

The teenager shook his head, frowning as Natasha pulled his suit from his hands. “I don’t have seizures.”

Natasha put the garment back in its silver case and locked it as she tried to figure out what to say. “Well, actually you-”

She turned, her words faltering at Peters wide, confused eyes. He had forgotten again. He had no idea that he had a TBI and she couldn’t tell him. He’d remember in a while anyway, what was the use of breaking his heart now? She smiled instead and took his elbow. “Of course not. How about we play some video games until dinner?”

He nodded, following her as his suit slipped from his mind. 

Some days it seemed as if he were getting worse, moving backwards instead of getting better. 

“I don’t w-want you to h-help me! I can do it by my...m-myself!” Tony sighed, stepping back as Peter yelled at him, voice shaky as his bad hand trembled too hard to zip his hoodie. 

Tony took a breath and kept his own voice calm and quiet. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

But he couldn't do it on his own and the more he tried the angrier he got. Small grunts left his clenched teeth and his breaths sped up, hands fumbling to just try and zip up his stupid hoodie. Three-year-olds could it and yet his hand wouldn’t stop shaking enough to let him just slip the metal pieces together. 

Tony wanted to take his hands and help but the teenager was already in a volatile mood and he knew it wouldn't help. So, instead, he waited and watched Peter get increasingly frustrated until finally his temper snapped and Peter let out a yell, fingers gripping his hoodie and tearing it off. 

But tearing it off didn’t mean he took the garment off in a hurry, no, he literally tore the material to shreds, ripping it off and throwing it to the floor. 

Tony watched quietly as Peter panted, words gruff and low. “I don’t want to w-wear a hoodie today.” 

The mechanic simply nodded and pulled two sweaters from the kid's drawers instead. Bruce had said not to overwhelm Peter with too many choices, and he held the two options up instead of asking Peter to pick from his whole wardrobe. “That’s okay, you don't have to. Do you want the green or red sweater?”

Peter took a quiet breath, seeming to come back to himself and pointed to the green. Crisis averted. 

He had good days too, when his stutter didn’t bother him as much or when he smiled and laughed like he used to. Tony wished he had more of those.

:::::::::::::::::::::::

He didn’t know what set it off, didn’t even know if Peter did. All Tony knew was that the alarms went off and he dropped everything and ran. 

He could hear Steve yelling, calling for backup as something smashed and he ran faster, winding his way through doorways and walkways until he was skidding to a stop in the open door of Peters bathroom where all the noise was coming from. 

And there was Peter, shoes splashing through the water pooling on the floor from the sink he’d smashed. There were chunks of porcelain all over the floor, half the basin still hanging from the wall until Peters fist swung down and cracked it off. 

Steve was behind the teenager, hands raised as he yelled, trying to reason with him and his face paled further when the sharp, broken edge of the sink sliced Peters' hand open as he broke it. 

Peter didn’t seem to notice the red stream spilling down his hand, running along his wrist to drip off his elbow, turning the water pink as it sloshed on the floor. 

Instead, he bared his teeth and stared into the mirror in front of him, face red. "I HATE YOU!"

Steve tried to grab him, but his hands pulled from Peters' arms as the kid curled his shaking hand into a fist and threw it at his mirror. “Peter, stop! You’re hurting yourself!”

That trembling fist smashed the glass, sending shards of it to the water beneath his shoes, more colour bleeding into the lake on the floor.

Tony didn’t know where to focus. The water spilling everywhere from the broken faucet or the blood pouring from both of Peters' hands. Peter stumbled back, mouth open and teeth bared as he screamed in rage, unaware of the glass piercing through his shoe where he stepped on it. 

Tony was frozen where he stood, unable to do anything if he tried. He barely even noticed Bucky approaching until he pushed past him into the bathroom to help Steve wrangle the out-of-control teenager.

Steve wrapped his arms around Peter from behind, pulling him back as the kid tried to pull from his grip and Bucky quickly made himself useful, gripping Peters wrists from in front of him and pushing him backwards. 

Peter screamed and kicked, doing everything he could to throw them off but the two super soldiers managed to get him on the ground, sitting in between Steve’s legs. 

“GET OFF ME! I HATE YOU! I FUCKING HATE YOU!”

Steves' arms were wrapped around him so tight he couldn’t even wiggle but his feet were free and he landed a kick to Bucky’s chest. 

The thing that surprised Tony was that a kick from an angry Peter should have sent the winter soldier flying back into the wall, but instead, it barely made him stumble. Peter hadn’t kicked him, it had been more of a nudge. Because of course, even when he was blind with rage, he was still a hero and Spider-Man never hurt anyone if he could help it. 

Steve held the young Avenger close, the both of them soaked from the water they sat in, and Tony could barely hear his voice over the all the rushing water. 

“Shh, Peter, stop. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I know. You’re okay. Just breathe, kiddo. I’m right here.”

The teenager was grunting with the effort to break free, Bucky’s strong hands wrapped around his ankles now to stop him moving at all and his voice was hard. “I hate you.”

Steve looked hurt by the words but pressed his cheek against Peters' hair anyway, still offering comfort. “I know. But I can’t let you get hurt. Just calm down. Relax.”

Bucky turned his head, panting from the exertion, Peters legs still straining to get out of his grip. 

“Tony. Turn the water off.”

The mechanic turned plumber blinked, snapping out of his shock and nodded, quickly dealing with the pipes and broken taps and shutting the water off. The room wasn’t so deafeningly loud anymore and Tony could hear Bruce’s pounding feet as he ran towards them, syringe in hand. 

“Where is he? How bad is it?”

Tony pointed, moving back as he tried to find his voice. He’d known Peters anger was a problem but he had no idea he could do something so...scary. 

Bucky answered Bruce as the doctor knelt next to the three men. “He cut his hands and I think his foot. He won’t stop.”

Peter’s eyes widened at the needle in Bruce’s hand and he renewed his struggles with vigour. “No! Don’t come near me! LEAVE ME ALONE!”

Steve’s arms were straining from their grip, veins visible along his taut muscles and Peter’s breathing sped up as Bruce moved closer, placing a hand on the boy's knee and pressing it to lay flat with the help of Buck who was pulling his ankle.

“I’m sorry, Peter. You’ll feel better when you wake up.”

Peter threw his head back, banging it against Steve’s shoulder as he screamed. Bruce frowned and pressed the needle to his thigh, pushing the plunger down.

“NO! STOP!”

It was too late. Bruce pulled the needle out and sighed, watching as Peter’s screams turned to whimpers and pants, his strained muscles melting to rubber. His eyelids fluttered and he sighed, red, blood-slick fingers uncurling until finally his eyes rolled back and he was out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> once again sorry this took so long but now that his anger has finally become too much of a problem for the avengers theres a more solid story so I hope you like it? Please let me know if you do and I'll try to update sooner.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like this? Sorry it is sad but there isn't too long to go till it gets happy again so hang in there if you can

Steve’s arms relaxed as Peter slumped in his hold and Tony watched the soldier's eyebrows crease, voice wobbly. Without the kid struggling, Steve was no longer restraining him, just sitting in the water on the floor and hugging Peter to his chest. “I-I didn’t know he’d do this. He wanted to go to school, he got confused. I tried to tell him and keep him calm but he just…”

Bucky released Peters' ankles and sighed, feet splashing in the water on the floor as he stood. “It’s not your fault, Steve.”

The first Avenger sniffed and shoved his guilt away, focussing on the kid in his arms. “He needs patching up.” 

Bruce nodded and pulled a towel from a basket on the corner, tearing it in half lengthwise before carefully taking Peters' hands. They were slick with red, blood already stained through his and Steve’s shirts. 

“We’ll take him to the containment unit.” He made quick work of the teenager's wounds, wrapping the towels tightly around the slice on one palm and the knuckles of the other, tying them tight to stem the bleeding. 

Tony blinked, snapping out his shock to finally speak. “Bruce, you can’t-”

Bruce stood and stepped back, water sloshing as Steve rearranged Peter in his arms and got to his feet. “I know it’s not ideal but this can’t happen again. Look at him, Tony. Look what he did.”

Tony clenched his teeth, watching Bucky's hand on Steve’s waist, navigating him through the glass and porcelain on the ground as he carried Peter out. The poor kid was dangling from his arms, soaked with water and dripping blood. He felt nauseous. 

His voice was quiet and weak, defeated. “Okay.”

Tony stepped out of the way as Steve made his way past, a trail of water and blood behind him.   
Someone was going to have to call May. The thought alone threatened to give him a headache and he made his way after the others. 

The containment units were not something Tony wanted to see Peter in. They were small cubes that were designed to hold empowered individuals or aliens and while the kid didn’t deserve to be locked up, it was the safest way to contain him in case he had another meltdown. Bruce was right. They couldn’t keep going on like they were. 

Bruce led the way, Steve and Bucky trailing behind him before heading into the small, white cube. There was a soft bed in the corner and Tony swallowed thickly at the sight of the reinforced restraints waiting. 

“Put him there and strap him down. I’ll get my supplies.”

Steve nodded and lowered Peter onto the soft mattress, being careful with his precious cargo before he and Bucky started on the restraints. Water and blood were already soaking into the bed and the padded floor and Steve gently brushed the teenager's wet curls back from his forehead. He was glad Peter was asleep as he pressed the cuff closed around that thin wrist. 

It felt so wrong to be cuffing him and Steve tried not to look at the boys face as he did it, knowing it would only make it harder. 

Bruce came back wearing gloves and holding a tray of supplies and nodded towards the door when the two super soldiers finished. “Wait out there and activate the locking protocols.”

The two did as they were told, all aware of how the cells worked. Once activated, the cell would only open from the outside, when a code was given and Peters restraints would only unlock once Bruce was out and the doors sealed once more. 

Tony stood at the one window, arms crossed as Bruce sat on the edge of the bed and started on his work. He untied the towels and tutted at the long, oozing, cut. He cleaned and covered it, using glue instead of stitches due to the fast nature of Peters healing, before moving on to Peters other hand. 

There were shards of mirror embedded in his skin and small cuts over his fingers and Tony winced as he watched Bruce carefully pull them free, dropping the glass in a bowl on his tray. The hand was cleaned and bandaged and Bruce shifted to his shoes. 

Bruce winced in sympathy of what he saw and grabbed a pair of scissors to cut Peters shoe off. A shard of glass had stabbed right through the sole of his shoe and into his foot, leaving blood to fill the shoe and trickle out of the bottom. 

Steve furrowed his brows and turned away, Bucky rubbing a hand over his arm in comfort. “How did he not notice that? How does he keep doing this to himself?”

Tony didn’t know if he could answer that. He didn’t know if he could find his voice to speak at all because it seemed the TBI was taking away every part of Peter that made him Peter. And there wasn’t anything he could do about it. 

Bruce cut the shoe off and carefully peeled it away from Peters' foot, blood pouring out and splattering onto the floor as he did. The doctor cursed and slapped a gauze pad to the sole of the foot, pressing it hard enough to make Peters foot jerk in his hand, a small breath of pain escaping the kid's mouth. 

Tony watched and pressed a hand to the glass window, unable to stop himself from worrying as Peter showed signs of waking. Bruce fixed the kids foot as quick as he could and wrapped it tightly before hastily cleaning the blood from the floor. 

Bucky said something about giving them some privacy and tugged Steve out, hand on his back. 

Peter was groaning in pain, eyebrows creasing as he came to and Bruce hurried out the door and locked it. The cuffs holding Peter down popped open as soon as the lock was activated and Tony bit his lip, knowing the following conversation was not going to be easy. 

::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Something stung Peters foot, the sharp stab of pain pulling him from the dark and he tried to pull it away, only to find it trapped. He groaned and rolled his head on what felt like a pillow, tugging his wrists that seemed to be stuck too. 

His eyelids were heavy and he almost wanted to go back to sleep except he was pretty sure he needed to figure out why he couldn’t move. 

Something or someone made noises close by before Peter could hear a door open and close and the telltale sound of it locking. There was another sound too but he wasn’t sure what it was until he tugged his hands and found they were no longer pinned down. 

That meant he could get up. If he could get up. He took a breath in through his nose and blew it out his mouth feeling strange and wobbly, unsure if he could move from whatever he was laying on. 

“Peter?”

Tony’s voice came then, strange and slightly echoey like it was coming through a speaker. 

The teenager dragged his eyelids open and blinked through his blurry vision, trying to understand what he was looking at. 

White. Just...white. That was not his ceiling from his room. His ceiling was covered in tiny glow in the dark stars where Tony had put them as a joke. Although Peter had always thought that arranging them all in constellations was a bit specific for a joke and had always suspected Tony wasn’t joking at all and had just done it because he knew Peter would like them. Which he did.

Nope, not his ceiling, and most definitely not his room because the walls were white too. And closer. 

“Peter, I need you to stay calm and listen to what I have to say.” Tony’s voice came again, worried and unsure and Peter blinked around the room, searching for him. 

“M-Mr Stark? Where-?”

The room was small and empty and...padded? Peter slowly sat up on the squishy bed, slipping his wrists and ankles from the open cuffs, his heart speeding up with each new detail. 

“Where are you?” 

Peter rubbed a hand over his eyes, letting out a small whimper when pain stabbed through his palm. 

“I’m right outside. There’s a window...Peter, I’m sorry it had to come to this. It’s not what any of us wanted.”

Peter pulled his hand away from his eyes and looked down at the bandages wrapped tightly around his hands and fingers. Why did he have…? 

Memories suddenly snapped back into place and the teenager swung his legs over the side of the bed, mumbling. “Oh my god, the bathroom. Did I-? Is Steve okay?”

“He’s fine. Don’t get up, just sit. You hurt your foot.”

Peter was only half listening, eyes finding the window that Tony was watching him through, his face sad, eyes lowered. 

“Why am I in here?”

Peter slipped from the mattress, hissing in pain as his hurt foot complained and knees buckled. He felt so weak and his head spun as he fell to the spongy floor, hands catching him painfully. 

Tony ducked his head away, swallowing his nausea at seeing the kid caged and hurt. “It’s for your own safety.”

Peter swung a hand up to grab the mattress, thinking better of it and just used his elbow to lift himself back up to his one good foot. He hobbled over to the door, fingers brushing over where the handle would have been if it had one. 

“Let me out.”

Tony’s face was pinched in pain at Peters quiet, child-like voice but he couldn’t give in. “I can’t. I’m sorry, buddy.”

Peter looked at him and frowned, shaking his head as he pushed harder on the door. “What? No. No, let me out. What are you doing?”

Tony took a breath and lifted his eyes to look at the kid in the eyes, his own pricking with tears. “We need to talk about what happened, Pete. Do you remember?”

The teenager nodded, careful not to put weight on his bad foot as he stood against the door. “I got mad a-again. I didn’t mean it, you know that. It’s not my fault.”

Peter watched the window, Tony’s mouth opening to reply before he was interrupted by Bruce, eyebrows set in a frown. 

“Except it is, isn’t it?”

Tony looked as surprised as Peter before the doctor held up his pill bottle and Peters' stomach dropped. “I was looking into why these outbursts were happening because really it shouldn’t have been this bad while you were on your meds. So, I went and I checked. You’ve been flushing them.”

Tony’s shocked face turned to the window once more and Peters' heart pounded as he tried to explain himself. “They make it harder to concentrate. My w-words and hand are worse and I’m too tired to do anything.”

Tony’s voice was hot and angry as he shifted closer to the glass. “Then you should have talked to us! We could have seen about adjusting the dosage or working something out to make it easier! Peter, do you have any idea how dangerous and stupid that was? I can’t believe you!”

Something in the young Avengers chest sparked to life, something he’d been holding back for a long time. 

“Do you know what it was like to wake up brain damaged? I don’t rem-remember the mission or hitting my h-head. I don't remember the seizures or the coma. Everyone keeps s-saying how lucky I am to be alive like all this is a prize! But it’s not like that for me! All I know is that I went to bed as Spider-Man and woke up with a TBI. It's not fair! My brain doesn't work right anym-anymore! I can't remember words and I have seizures and every time I look into someone's eyes I see how they pity me. And I hate it.”

Tony’s face softened but he didn’t let up. “I’m sorry. I know this has been hard on you but Peter, this is all for your own good.”

Peter scoffed at that and pressed his head to the soft padding over the door as Tony kept going. 

“We all just want you to get better but you can’t do that if you don’t take your medication. It’s important.”

Peter looked back up, limping over to the window. “I don’t care! I’m not taking them!”

Tony crossed his arms. “Then you’re not coming out.”

Anger boiled up inside the teenager and he slammed a fist on the reinforced glass, making Tony and Bruce flinch back. “LET ME OUT!”

Tony jumped with every pounding of Peters fists against the glass, his voice rising above the noise. “Stop it! You’re going to hurt yourself again!”

Peter hit harder, voice breaking as he yelled. “I DON’T CARE! LET ME OUT!” His anger collapsed in an instant, along with his legs and he fell to the floor in a heap, tears making their way down his pink cheeks. “Let me out. Please.”

Tony’s resolution wavered but he knew if he wanted Peter to get better he needed to take the pills. Bruce opened a panel by the door and put the medication on the tray and slid it through. 

“Peter, it will get better. It’ll get easier but you need to take your medication. Take those pills and we can open this door.”

The teenager leaned against the wall, bright, wet eyes watching Tony imploringly and they were so hard to say no to. But there was someone who had more experience with it. Maybe she could get through to him. 

“Fine. I’ll pull out the big guns but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Peter sniffled as he watched Tony disappear for a few seconds and come back with…

“May?”

His aunt stood at the window, eyes sad behind her big glasses. “Peter. You need to do as Dr Banner says.”

Peter shook his head a sob falling from him. “I can’t. They m-make everything h-harder.”

May’s voice was steadier than Tony’s had been and he had no idea how she was able to withstand the force of Peters watery gaze. He was ready to give the kid anything he wanted just to make him stop crying but May had her hands on her hips as she looked at Peter with a steady gaze. 

“I know, honey but it’s the only way to make sure you’re safe. We love you, baby. We just want to help you. Take those pills and you can come out and have a hug.”

Peter hiccuped, tears dripping off his wobbling bottom lip and Tony could swear he was seconds away from giving in. But finally, Peter nodded and wiped a damp sleeve over his cheeks as he struggled to his feet. 

The hated tablets were waiting for him but he wanted Mays hug so badly he threw them back without any more fuss. 

“Good boy.”

The door unlocked and May walked in as Peter hobbled over to her, arms stretched out and waiting. “It’s okay, Peter. Shh, you'll be okay.”

He pressed his face to her neck as her gentle hands smoothed over the back of his head and neck, other hand rubbing his back. “I’m sorry, May. I didn’t mean to lie and I didn’t mean to break everything I just-”

May shushed him again, gentle voice soothing his racing heart. “I know you didn’t but you have to promise you won’t do it again. You need to let us help, Peter. We only want what's best for you.”

“I p-promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like it? I put it through Grammarly but I didn't edit and I cannot find the email for the person that offered to be my beta so if there are mistakes let me know
> 
> I'll try update soon the next chapter is sad but hopefully the one after and the rest will be happy


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is toned by the feelings of doubt Peter is experiencing. It is in no way a reflection of how I feel about people with tbi’s or any other illness or disability. The negative thoughts Peter has are simply the product of his trauma and own experience and is not meant to offend anyone.

“Here we go, sweetheart. Don’t forget to drink your water.” May tipped the assortment of pills into Peters' palm with a smile before hurrying off to get his breakfast. 

Steve was trying not to be obvious but Peter could see him watching over his newspaper, keeping an eye out in case Peter tried to throw away his medication again. 

The teenager sighed and threw them all back chasing them with a glass of water and the cubed bits of fruit May put in front of him. 

“At least the prison food is decent.” Peters mumble had not been intended for any ears other than his own but Steve frowned over his paper anyway, confused.

“What?”

Peter grabbed his bowl and stood, hurrying off to his room. “Nothing.”

He knew he was really lucky to be staying in a place as nice as the compound, with his own room and everything he could ever want but he felt so trapped and so...useless. The Avengers were living in the compound because they were Avengers. They had saved the world a few times over but Peter wasn’t even well enough to go on patrols. What did he do to deserve a room? 

And what was worse, he could see everyone around him looking tired trying to take care of him. Tony was running on coffee and two hours of sleep a night and May was spending every minute away from work running after him. 

Natasha came down the hallway towards him and slapped a smile on her face as soon as she saw him. It looked genuine but what did Peter know? “Hey, mini Tony. You ready for flash cards?”

Peter looked down at the stack of cards she had in her hands and shook his head, nodding towards his bowl of fruit. “N-no thanks. I have to finish m-my ...um. The one that comes before lunch?”

Natasha looked surprised to hear him say no but offered the word anyway. “Breakfast. Right. Okay, maybe later.”

Peter didn’t bother replying as he left, feeling numb and tired. Just like he always did on his anger meds. He wasn’t going to do his flashcards later, he didn’t want to do them at all. It was monotonous and stupid and a super spy should be doing more important things than babysitting him. 

The teenager made it to his room and shut the door, wanting to be alone. 

:::::::::::::::::

Tony was finally sleeping in, finally getting a decent sleep after weeks of staying up worrying about Peter. He’d been on the verge of burning out, barely even able to concentrate on a single task and he was worried he’d mix up Peters medication if he didn’t take a break and shut his eyes for a moment. 

But of course, the universe wasn’t satisfied and it woke him from his fitful sleep. 

Or more accurately, Friday did with a beeping alarm and hurried voice. “Boss, Peter needs assistance in his room.”

Tony groaned and shoved his face into his pillow, words muffled. “May’s giving him his meds this morning and Natasha and Sam are doing therapy. Why does he need me?”

“He is having a seizure.”

Panic shot through the mechanic's chest as he jumped from the bed, sprinting out the door as his bare feet thumped against the carpet. “Is he alone? What kind is it? Is he okay?”

Bucky ducked out of the way as Tony sprinted down the hallway, Friday answering as he ran. “He is alone. It looks to be a complex partial seizure and he’s safe.”

Tony’s heart-attack-level panic mellowed down to mild panic attack levels because of course, it was the one time Tony slacked off and took a break that something would go wrong. 

And sure, Tony could have set up Friday’s alarms to alert everyone in the tower of Peters seizures but it wouldn't help anyone to have all the Avengers worrying and crowding Peter. Tony prefered to handle them himself and have Friday call for backup should he require it. So, he made his way to the kid, all thoughts of sleep-ins gone from his mind. 

Tony arrived at the kid's door and swung it open to find bits of fruit scattered across the carpet, a bowl laying face down near Peters desk. And there was Peter. He was staring off at nothing, smacking his lips and humming slightly, trembling fingers tugging at his shirt. 

Tony took a deep breath and stepped over the fruit, reaching carefully for the teenager. “Hey, Pete. You’re okay. I’m gonna stay with you until this passes, okay?”

Complex partial seizures, as Bruce had described them, were brief lapses in awareness where Peter was still conscious but not really there. They weren’t dangerous as long as Peter wasn’t alone and they didn’t usually last long. All Tony had to do was make sure Peter didn’t wander too far or into anything he shouldn’t. 

Peter didn’t respond to Tony’s voice, his feet shuffling him across the room as his eyes stared blankly ahead and his throat worked like he was swallowing repeatedly. 

Tony watched him closely and gently steered Peter away from his desk so that he wouldn’t walk into it. “Okay, there you go.”

Peter started humming again, no tune just a slow hum as one of his hands came up to tug at his collar. It was strange seeing the usually bright boy so blank and unaware but after a minute he blinked, frowning. 

“I...I dropped...I dropped it.” His words were nothing more than a confused mumble and the mechanic kept his own voice calm and bright.

Tony gently squeezed the top of Peters' arm as he looked over the floor. “That’s okay. I can clean it up later. You back with me?”

Peter blinked again and nodded, rubbing a hand over his face as Tony led him to his bed to sit down.

“Do you know who I am?”

Peter grunted, feeling sluggish and wobbly, his voice croaky as if he’d just woken up. “M-Mr Stark.”

Tony nodded and used the end of his sleeve to wipe the corner of Peters' mouth where he’d drooled a little during his seizure. “Good job, buddy. There you go. You feeling okay? You wanna lie down?”

Peter shook his head and looked up and down from Tony's bare feet to his sweatpants and up to his old hoodie and sleep-mussed hair. “You were sleeping. I woke you.”

Tony made a face as he shook his head but Peter knew he was lying. “No, I was getting up when Friday told me you needed help.”

Peter was feeling a little more like himself and he rubbed his eyes as he looked over the mess on the floor. “I was gonna eat that. Now I ruined your carpet and woke you up and-”

Tony waved a hand, kneeling down in front of Peter before lifting a hand and pushing the kid's hair back. “Hey, none of that matters. We’ll get you more fruit and we’ll clean the carpet and I can sleep another time, okay? The only thing that matters is that you’re safe.”

Peter held his gaze for a moment, something like guilt or maybe longing in his eyes before he blinked and it was shut away. Tony lowered his hand as Peter stuttered. 

“I got f-fruit all over me. I’m gonna shower.”

He wasn’t wrong. Fruit juice had splattered up onto his jeans and t-shirt when he’d dropped it and he was all sticky. But Tony didn’t know if he wanted him out of his sight. Just when he’d left Peter to take a break he’d had a seizure and now, right after, he wanted to be alone? 

“I don’t know if that's a good idea just yet. Sit down for a little while until you’re steady enough.”

“I am steady.” Peter was getting frustrated and Tony didn’t want to push him any further.

He stood and nodded, trying to reason with the anxiety screaming at him. Peter wasn’t a baby, he could catch cars and scale buildings, he was okay to have a shower. But on the other hand, he had just had a seizure and if he had another on in the shower he could get hurt. 

Peter stood and went to his bathroom, leaving Tony to wrestle with himself. He knew he was being ridiculous but he had just had such a big scare with Friday’s terrifying wake-up call and his heart hadn’t really calmed down just yet. 

Peter locked the door as he started the shower and Tony clenched his hands into fists, jumping slightly when a knock came at the door. He turned, seeing Rhodey in the doorway with raised eyebrows. 

“Everything okay in here?”

Tony quickly nodded as he heard the shower start and gestured to the mess on the carpet. “Yeah, Pete just had a little zone out and spilt his breakfast.”

Rhodey nodded as they both knelt down, picking bits off the floor and throwing them into the bowl. “Is that why you’re hyperventilating?”

Tony sat on the floor, legs half folded in front of him as he sighed. “The first time he had a seizure, right after he hit his head, he was in his room alone. I listened to him crash and fall and I couldn’t help and then Friday woke me up this morning because he was alone and having another one. It was only a partial seizure but I just hate the thought of him being alone when he needs help.”

Rhodey picked up bits of melon and dropped them in the bowl as he answered. “You’re allowed to take breaks, Tony. He’s not alone and neither are you. Everyone in this tower is here and happy to help and you know if anything ever went wrong Friday would let us know. He’s as safe as he can be and believe it or not he can take care of himself.”

Tony grabbed another bit of apple from the ground, eyes lowered as he grumbled. “I know he can but I can’t help worrying.”

Rhodey shook his head with a smile, voice teasing. “You know if you got some sleep every once and a while you wouldn’t be so paranoid.”

Tony laughed already ready with a retort. “Oh, you know what? I-” But his words were cut off by an explosion of noise in the bathroom. 

Something crashed to the floor, loud and echoey but small like a bottle of shampoo before Tony could hear Peter yelp, a heavy thud following after. 

Tony’s heart was sent racing once again as he leapt to his feet and ran to the bathroom door, pounding on it with his hands. “Peter?! Are you okay? Answer me!”

He was about to force the door open when a groan came from the other side. “I-I’m okay. I just slipped.”

“Are you hurt? Did you hit your head? Did you hit anything?” 

Rhodey took Tony’s arm, gently pulling him back from the door. “Hey, calm down. He’s okay.” 

Peter groaned again, his feet slapping against the floor as he got to his feet. “No, I didn’t hit anything. I’m f-fine. Can I finish my shower please?” 

It was silly to be so freaked out and he knew it but it didn’t calm his heart any and Tony thumped his palm on the door once more. “No, come out here and let me check on you.” 

“Mr Stark.” The name was said with a sigh and a tone which implied he would not be opening the door anytime soon. 

Rhodey frowned and pulled his friend back, genuinely concerned. “What is going on with you? He said he’s fine.”

It was embarrassing and stupid but none of that changed how he felt. Tony rubbed a hand over his forehead and tried to calm down. “I can’t help it! The first time he said he was fine his brain was swelling! What if he’s hurt and he doesn't know it or-”

He thumped his hand on the door again and he winced at how whiny his own voice sounded. “Peter, please just...if you won't come out just keep talking to me or sing a song or whatever just so I know you’re still alive until you come out.”

Peter was quiet for a moment before Tony could hear him sigh and get back in the shower, his voice raised above the running water. 

“The itsy bitsy Peter crawled up the compound wall,  
Mr Stark saved his butt and told him he could fall,  
Out came the Rhodey to tell him to lay off,  
So, the itsy bitsy Peter could crawl right back on top.”

Tony let out a laugh as Rhodey lifted an eyebrow at him. “Kids quick. You don’t need to freak out so much.”

The mechanic nodded and Rhodey left them to it. 

The water shut off then and Tony heard Peter shuffle around with fabric, grunting and huffing as he got dressed. Finally, he made it to the door and it opened, allowing a damp Peter to pad through, wet loops of hair hanging down into his flushed face. 

Tony didn’t wait, grabbing the kid by the arms as soon as he was able. He looked him over, brushing that unruly hair back and demanding Peter answer the same questions he already had. 

“Are you sure you’re not hurt? You didn’t hit anything? Why did you fall? Did you get dizzy or blackout?”

Peter sighed, feeling awful for making his mentor worry so much and he tried to be patient as he answered the ramble of questions. “I already told you, I’m okay. I just slipped, it’s no big deal. You can even have Friday scan me if you like.”

Tony blinked, watching Peters face. He looked tired and sad and the Avenger shook his head. “No, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be so…”

Peter smiled, cheeky. “Clucky?”

Tony laughed. “Yes. I know you can take care of yourself, I don’t mean to smother you it’s just…”

Peter nodded, eyes lowering in guilt. “S-scary. I know.”

Tony nodded quietly before tugging Peter towards him and wrapping his arms around him, squeezing tight. “I just worry but it’s all okay as long as you’re safe.”

Peter hugged him back, resting his chin on Mr Starks shoulder and wished he didn’t have to make his hero worry anymore. 

Tony released him and smiled, more relaxed than he’d looked all morning before his smile morphed into something more curious. He lifted a hand to Peters' chin and rubbed the peach fuzz there. 

“You growing a beard, there bud?”

Peter blushed a little, pulling away as he rubbed at the spot self consciously with a shaky hand. 

“I d-don’t want to try it with the bad hand.”

Tony nodded, humming as he thought for a moment before raising an eyebrow. “Do you want me to help? I give a killer shave if I do say so myself. I promise I won’t give you a goatee. Unless you want one of course.”

Peter snickered a little but headed back into the bathroom, in a silent acceptance of Tony’s offer. “I don’t t-think I could even grow one.”

Tony laughed and patted his back. “That’s true. No offence.”

Peter turned to him with a smile before it slipped off at the sight of Tony yawning. 

“Never m-mind. You don’t have to.”

Tony frowned, spreading his hands out in confusion. “I know I don’t have to, I want to. What's wrong?”

Peters' face was turned away and he tried to squeeze out of the doorway before Tony could stop him, mumbling as he went. “N-nothing. It’s just that you’re already doing so much for me and I can’t possibly pay you back. The medical care and then the amount of food I eat and I’m living in your place and-”

Tony shook his head and took the teenagers arm as he stopped his ramblings with his own. “Woah. Peter, first of all: This compound is for all the Avengers to live in and you're an Avenger bud. This is your home too. And secondly, there is nothing that you have to pay back. Peter, I don’t take care of you and give you things because I want anything from you. I do it because you're important and I want to make sure you have everything you need. Why has this all come on?”

He didn’t know how to explain the way he felt, especially in a way that wouldn’t get him a pitying look and a lecture. 

“I j-just know how tired you’ve been lately and you do so much for me. I never wanted to be such a burden. You should be doing more important things than helping me do something as stupid as f-flash cards. I don’t even get half of them r-right and now I a-appa-apparently can’t have a shower on my own and I woke you up and it’s not fair. You never asked for this!”

He was getting more worked up as he went, words tangling together and bad hand shaking as he spiralled himself into a panic. Tony reached out, trying to take his arm to calm him down but Peter pulled away, eyes shining as he tried not to cry. 

“Peter, stop-”

“I keep g-getting in the way! I know you’ve b-been called to missions and you keep saying no be-because I’m here! IM NOT EVEN GETTING BETTER!”

Tony sucked in a breath at Peters raised voice, shaky and wet as he sniffed, tears threatening to fall. “You should ju-just send me home and forget about me.”

Tony was silent for just a moment before he set his jaw, voice hard. “Peter Parker don’t you ever say something like that. How could you think I’d ever see you as a burden? Do you know how many times I’ve woken Pepper up because I’m too scared to sit in the dark alone? 

“Do you know how many times Steve has screamed himself awake looking for Bucky after a nightmare or how many times Bucky’s had a panic attack? Hero’s save people but unfortunately, that means we have to deal with the horrible things we protect everyone from. And you were a hero long before you put on that suit. You were hurt protecting others and now you need help to get better. There’s nothing wrong with that and there is nothing I would rather be doing. I’m never gonna leave you, Peter. No matter what I’ll be here.”

Peter nodded, sniffling as he watched Tony with wide, brown eyes. “Thanks, M-Mr Stark”

Tony couldn’t stand to watch Peters sad face anymore and he reached out for him, Peters arms raising in answer. “Come here, kid.”

Peter sniffled again as Tony pulled him to his chest and held him tight. “You are getting better. It just takes time. You’ll see.”

The teenager shuddered in his mentors hold, emotions rolling through him too fast to hold on to. “I’m sorry.”

Tony scoffed and brushed Peters hair at the nape of his neck, calming him with just a touch. “Don’t be sorry. Now, do you want some help with your peach fuzz? Or do you want to leave it for a cool, scruffy look?”

Peter huffed out a shaky laugh and pulled back from Tony’s arms, wiping a sleeve over his face. “Help, please.”

Tony led him back over to the basin and sat him down on a stool in front of the mirror, grabbing Peters razor from the countertop. The teenager was quiet, cheeks flushed as Tony gently swiped shaving cream over Peters' cheeks, discreetly catching a tear from his chin at the same time. 

Peter sat still, bad hand still trembling against his leg slightly as Tony carefully shaved his face for him. 

“You know my dad never taught me to shave cause he was too busy with work and the star-spangled dumb-ass-” Peter burst out a giggle at the jab at Steve and Tony paused in his work, waiting for him to still before continuing. “-So, Jarvis showed me.” 

Peter frowned, as he watched Tony stick his tongue out the corner of his mouth in concentration. “I thought Jarvis was y-your AI be-before Friday.”

“He was but there was an actual Jarvis that he was named after.” Tony paused, eyes meeting Peters before quickly bouncing away, his words careful.

“Did your Uncle Ben teach you?”

Peter met his eyes, silent for a moment before his answer came, quiet and small. “I never needed to until after.” 

Tony hummed in understanding before lowering the razor and watching Peter, hoping he wasn't crossing a line. “Do you want me to teach you?” 

A slow smile spread across Peters' face, genuine and excited and he nodded eagerly. “Yeah, that would be a-awesome! May tried to teach me but...I think legs are different from faces.”

Tony laughed, caught off guard by the comment and he quickly grabbed a chair from Peters bedroom to sit on, facing the mirror as they watched each other in the reflection. 

Tony took Peters hand and placed the razor in it before carefully wrapping his hand on top, guiding the teenager's hand to his own face. “Go with the grain and go slowly. Shaving time is Peter time, you don’t have to rush.”

His careful guidance and the warm timbre of his voice was soothing and Peter found that his hand had stopped shaking under Tony’s gentle fingers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you like this I worked hard and yeah so let me know if you like it?  
> The next two chapters are already written so they'll be up soon


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so glad you guys liked that dad tony scene last chapter!! Here's some more!!!

“There you go, little dude.” Sam handed Peter his palm full of pills and a glass of juice before Bucky came and swiped the glass off the table. “He can’t have that, it has too much sugar in it. He can have water.”

Sam frowned and tried to take it back only for Bucky to pull it away, juice sloshing dangerously close to the rim of the glass. “Juice is healthy!”

Bucky pointed to the pills Peter was holding. “The labels on the bottles say he has to drink it with water.”

Peter rolled his eyes and slumped against the table, resting his chin on his arms as Sam started ranting about the benefits of fruit juice. Peter was grateful when Steve walked in and interrupted them both. 

“Bucky, give Peter his juice back. Sam, go get some water he can take his meds with. Here.” 

Peter looked up as Steve offered him a sandwich, sitting up to take it with a mumbled reply. “Thanks.”

Steve sat down beside him, Bucky and Sam doing as they were told while quietly bickering the background. “You okay? You seem a little down.”

Peter shrugged and threw his meds back with a mouthful of juice. “Not really. I tried to do flash cards with May but I kept getting them all wrong and then I got so frustrated I couldn’t say anything a-at all and...I just hate this. I know it takes time but i-its been ages and I'm n-not better yet.”

Steve nodded. “I’m sorry, Peter. That has to be difficult but you know we are all here to help.”

Peter looked away with an annoyed grunt as he picked up his sandwich. “That’s kind of the problem.”

The words were muttered under Peters breath and Steve was sure he wasn’t meant to hear them but that didn’t mean he would ignore them. “Peter, if we’re smothering you all you need to do is let us know.”

The spiderlings eyes grew wide and he almost choked on his sandwich as he hurried to correct himself. “No, that's not-! Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I just don’t want to bother you g-guys. I know you have better things to do.”

Steve made a face before pointing to his teammates behind him. “I assure you, we don’t.”

Peter turned to see what he was pointing at, finding the two just in time to see Bucky throw a slice of ham at Sam, landing it on his face with a slap. 

Peter didn’t know what they were doing but Steve didn’t seem bothered at all. “You’re a part of this team, Peter. We take care of each other and not just because we have to. You’re important to us. I don’t know why you’d think you’re not.”

Peter nodded, unable to shake his melancholy off despite the captain's kind words. “You’re right. Thanks. Um...Don’t tell Tony about this c-conv...c…”

Steve’s voice was quiet. “Talk?”

Peter nodded and turned away, dodging the slice of cheese Sam was throwing at Bucky as he left the kitchen. 

::::::::::::::::::

“-I don’t know how to help him.”

Bruce peered at his friend over his glasses as his fingers tapped away at his computer. “You might be able to if you took a break every once in a while. You’re running on fumes, Tony and if you’re not careful you’ll burn out.”

Tony sighed and spun around again on the wheelie chair he’d dragged over to sit beside Bruce as he worked. “I know, but he needs me now. Every time I try to take a break something happens. I’m starting to feel like the universe just doesn’t want me to sleep.”

“You aren’t the only one taking care of him. He has all of us too.”

Tony scooted his chair over to Bruce’s desk, leaning his arms on the table and putting his head down on them, voice muffled. “Yeah, but you know I have control issues Brucie bear. I have to do it myself otherwise it could all go wrong.”

Bruce sighed, nodding. “Yes, I know.” He was well aware of his friend's issues, having worked with him in the lab before. Of course, ‘working with’ was a generous phrase since Tony preferred to do everything himself. It wasn’t anything against him or anyone else and Bruce knew that it was just because if Tony was the one doing it he was the one that could ensure it was done right. 

Ah, trust issues. What a lovely gift from dear old dad. 

Tony groaned and sat up, running anxious hands through his hair. “I love the little guy, you know I do. I mean, I taught him how to shave for gods sakes, he’s like a s...anyway, I care about him but I just wish everything would calm down for a while. I’m getting PTSD from all the alarms from Friday, telling me Peter’s seizing.”

Bruce’s face scrunched up sadly as he looked over his work, calculating which medication and which dosage would work best with Peters metabolism. “I know. His medication isn’t working as well as I’d hoped but it’s just about getting the mixes and doses right.”

Tony placed a hand on the doctor's shoulder, apologetic. “I’m not blaming you. I know you’re doing everything you can. I’m just...exhausted. We need a break.”

::::::::::

Peter had been on his way to Bruce’s lab to talk to him about possibly being allowed to manage his own medications again, but he’d found something else. Tony was talking to Bruce, words twisting Peters insides up into anxious knots.

“I’ve never been good at taking care of myself let alone someone else and now I have Peter to look after twenty-four seven.”

The teenager peeked around the corner to watch Bruce smile. “You love taking care of him.”

“Of course I do! I love that little curly haired genius and being on dad duty is...something I never knew I wanted but I don’t think I can go on like this for much longer. Friday’s jump scares are wearing me out.”

Bruce hummed in agreement, hands working on something that Peter couldn't see from his angle. “We need to get a handle on his seizures or he’ll never be Spider-Man again.”

The teenager sucked in a breath and ducked back around the corner, out of view of the two older Avengers. He couldn’t be Spider-man...ever? 

His mind was reeling but even so, the noise was almost drowned out by the other piece of information he’d overheard. Tony thought of him as a son? Like Mr Stark was his dad? Peter was almost ashamed to admit that he’d been feeling the same way but he pushed it down as he remembered the dark circles under his mentor's eyes. 

He was exhausted and running after Peter all the time. It was like Tony had said, he was a full-time job. Peter pressed his lips together and hurried down hallways and to the elevator as he ran through the overheard conversation in his head again. 

There was a strange mix of emotions running through him, making him almost nauseous as the elevator took him back up to the communal floor. Because on the one hand he was happy that his hero and mentor, Tony Stark thought of him as a son and actually loved him but on the other, the conversation had only confirmed his fears of being a burden. 

And he didn’t know what to do to make it better. He wasn’t showing any more progress in his therapies and Bruce had just said he may never go back to being Spider-Man. What was he going to do?

He sure would have liked to think about it but as he left the elevator and walked through the living room the back of his skull began to buzz. His spidey sense told him something was wrong but he didn’t know what it was until the floor rushed up to meet him and his vision went black. 

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Peter’s eyes rolled around the fuzzy room, sounds and voices buzzing around him, unintelligible and muddled. Colours and faces spun across his vision, too blurry to recognise as his mind tried to collect itself and make sense of...well, anything. 

Nothing made sense to Peter at that moment. All he knew was that he hurt and he was scared and he wanted Tony.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Tony sprinted to the living room, following the voices calling for him over Friday’s alarms. “Friday, be quiet!” 

The alarms shut off, leaving only the sounds of Tony’s panting breaths and the grunts and gurgles of the youngest Avenger as he seized. Again. 

He turned the corner, almost skidding on the carpet in his hurry to get to his kid until he finally saw him. He was on the ground, shaking as Steve crouched over him, coffee table pushed safely out of the way and a pillow shoved under his head. Steve’s hand was on Peters chest and hip, keeping him on his side as pinkish foam dripped from the side of his mouth and down his cheek. 

Bucky was saying something but Tony didn’t bother listening as he dropped to his knees beside Peter and placed his hand on the kid's chest. His breathing was strained and he quickly swiped the foam away from Peters' mouth to check his lips. 

They were nice and pink, with no trace of blue. Tony sighed in relief and took over Steve’s hold on Peter, keeping him on his side. “Thanks, guys. I can take it from here. He wouldn't want an audience.”

Steve nodded, forehead creased in worry and Tony knew he was fighting his desire to stay. Bucky was clenching his fingers into fists at his sides, gaze anxiously flickering between Peter and Tony. “He hit the coffee table on his way down. On his right side. I tried to catch him but I wasn’t fast enough. And um...I think he’s bleeding.” He gestured to the blood reddening the foam from Peters' mouth.

Tony nodded, breaths calming down as he gave a reassuring smile to the nervous super soldier. “It’s okay, I’ll make sure I check him over. Thanks, Bucky.”

He nodded solemnly and followed Steve out, looking shaken up and guilty but Tony didn’t have time to worry about that. 

Peters seizure was slowing down and he was gurgling and spluttering, trying to breathe past the saliva filling his mouth. Tony carefully took his hand off Peters' hip and used his sleeve to wipe the mess away from his cheek. “You’re okay, kid. Tony’s here. You all done?”

Peter’s eyes rolled in their sockets as he jerked one last time before slumping, chest heaving, Tony rolled him on his back and carefully opened his mouth, shoving a finger in and swiping it across Peters' tongue as the kid grunted and clumsily tried to pull away. Tony winced in sympathy as his fingers explored Peters mouth, free hand holding his head still so he couldn’t pull away. 

“I know, I know. I’m sorry, I’m just checking.” His fingers found the bleeder and Tony gently held Peters mouth open to peer at the small bite he found on the inside of the kid's cheek. “You’re okay. Just a little bite. It’ll heal.”

He pulled his fingers out and dried them on his shirt before using it to wipe Peters' mouth.   
The teenager was blinking but not really focussing on anything, tears filling his eyes as he whimpered. 

His bad hand was shaking as he pulled at his shirt, huge brown eyes sad and scared as his gaze roamed listlessly over the room. 

Tony gently tugged his hand away and held it rambling nonsense reassurances that he knew Peter couldn’t understand anyway. “You’re okay. We just have to wait a little while before we can get you to bed. Not having a great day are you, buddy? I’ll make it up to you, I promise. You can have ice cream for breakfast tomorrow if you want. Just don’t tell Bruce.”

Peter wasn’t able to understand what was being said but he could register the tone that his mentor was using and the calming, smooth voice was exactly what he wanted. His hand tugged restlessly on Tony's and he whimpered again, tears running down his temples to dampen his hair. 

It was torture having to say no to the teenager's silent request with those adorable brown eyes squinting up at him but he had to. He lifted his free hand to wipe away Peters tears as he spoke, before moving it to the kid's chest and rubbing in slow soothing circles, hoping to settle him down.

“I know buddy, I’m sorry but I can’t pick you up until I know you aren’t going to have another seizure. You need to lay flat until I’m sure you’re okay. Just a little longer and you can have a hug, alright?” 

Peter kicked his feet against the carpet, restless and upset that Tony wasn’t giving him what he wanted. He just wanted a hug but Tony squeezed his hand and tried again. “Shh, you’re okay. Calm down, Pete. Don’t move around so much, buddy.” 

“Hmmm. Hurt. Hurt. No.” Words were hard and they didn’t come out the way he wanted but Tony nodded anyway. 

“I know, kiddo. Let me have a look.” Peter panted as Tony pulled his shirt up, tutting at the red mark across his side and pressing his fingers against Peters' ribs.

“Ooh, you hit that table hard didn’t you kiddo. It’ll be alright. Nothing's broken it’s just a bruise but we’ll have Bruce take a look anyway.” 

Tony tugged his shirt back down and gently cupped Peters' cheek, thumb swiping over his temples and wiping away the tears that lingered there, voice quiet. “Shh, you’re okay. I got you. Look at me.”

He could tell the teenager was coming back to himself a little more as his eyes found his, brown irises so sad as he struggled to get his words out. “Unngg...D-Dad.”

Tony’s frown softened into something sadder as his thumb brushed over Peters' cheek again, his eyes almost tearing up right along with him. “That’s right, spider-baby. Dads here.” 

Peter whimpered and Tony couldn't hold out any longer. “Come here.” He sat up and leaned his back against the couch before picking Peter up off the floor and pulling him onto his lap. The teenager was clumsy and mostly dead weight, drooping in Tony’s hold but he calmed down as soon as his head fell on his mentor's shoulder. 

“It’s okay, Peter. You’re okay. You’re safe, I got you. You can have your hug now.” He held him tight, rocking slightly as Peter sighed, shaky hands finding Tony’s shirt and gripping it with tight fists, finally where he wanted to be.

Tony sighed and closed his eyes, just letting the relief wash over him. Peter was okay, his heartbeat thrumming against his chest as little puffs of air warmed his neck. He could finally take a moment and just hold him. 

It didn't take long for Peter to fall asleep in Tony’s arms, cheek pressed to his shoulder and Tony almost fell asleep with him. Bruce found them that way as he went to check on his patient and he smiled at the sight of them. 

“He okay? Bucky said he went down hard.”

Tony looked up at the whispered words, not having seen his friend enter. “Yeah, just exhausted. He bit the inside of his cheek and hit his side on the coffee table but nothing's broken.”

Bruce nodded, gently lifting Peters shirt to take a peek but lowering it when he found nothing more than a bruise. “You need me to get Steve to carry him to bed?”

Tony shook his head, fighting a yawn as he spoke. “Nah, I can take him. I might have a break too. I can barely keep my eyes open.”

Bruce nodded and shuffled closer, helping Tony slowly get to his feet as he adjusted the koala clinging to his chest. 

Peter mumbled a little as Tony stood but didn’t let go. Instead, he wrapped his legs around Tony’s waist and held on tighter so he could carry on sleeping. 

“I might see about adjusting his seizure medication. Maybe a stronger dose might help.”

Tony yawned against Peters' hair as he slowly walked to his room, not wanting to jostle his precious cargo. “Honestly, I’m too tired to even think about anything other than bed.”

Bruce laughed quietly and held the door open for them, Tony’s hand pressing to the back of Peters' head as he carefully manoeuvred through. “We can talk about it tomorrow. You two get some sleep. Doctors orders.”

Tony was more than happy to oblige and carefully lay down on his bed without waking Peter who was snoring softly on his chest. Bruce tucked them both in, Tony’s hand rubbing over Peters back as he drifted off. 

And Bruce, being the respectable Doctor that he was, did not linger longer than was required. He left the two of them to their sleep...after taking one or two photos of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like this one? The next chapter deals with peters angsty feelings and I'm finally, for once, ahead with my writing so the next chapters already written. I'll post it when I've finished writing chapter 11 which should be the last chapter so yay


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm glad you guys are liking this!!! I hope this chapters okay

Bruce pulled the last tube of blood free before carefully slipping the needle from Peters' vein. “There we go. I’ll test these and see how your body’s reacting to the new medication. Press on this.”

Peter gave a small smile as Bruce guided his fingers to the bit of cotton on the inside of his elbow. “Thanks, B-b-bruce.”

Dr Banner’s smile was small and sad as he took the cotton away and smoothed an Iron Man plaster over the puncture mark. “No problem, kiddo.”

They’d switched up his meds to try and ease the seizures but it had caused some unfortunate side effects and Peter wasn’t handling it so well. May gently took his other arm and led him out of the room for lunch.

Tony crossed his arms as they watched the Parker pair leave, tone distinctly sulky. “Look at him. He’s a zombie and his speech is worse. He can barely concentrate.”

Bruce sighed and turned back to his charts. “I know.”

“What if we try a different kind of sedative?”

The doctor waved a hand but barely looked up from his work, tone monotonous and tired. “Every other medication we’ve tried has made him too nauseous to even stand. This one mixes well with his other ones.”

Tony gestured to the door again although Peter was no longer in sight. “What if you reduce it a little? He’s asleep on his feet. It doesn't even matter if he’s not having seizures because he can’t do anything like this!”

Bruce sighed and closed his eyes, bringing a hand up to rub tiredly over his eyes. “Tony-”

“It’s like he’s gone! There’s none of him left! He doesn’t come out of his room, he’s barely talked to anyone in three days!” 

He couldn't wait for Tony to realise it on his own. Bruce turned in his chair and tried to make his friend understand. “We can look into other options but Tony...I think this is just Peter.”

Tony blinked, taken aback. “What do you mean? This isn’t all that's left of him.”

Bruce shook his head and tried to explain, searching for a way to make it easier. “That’s not what I’m saying. Look, after what’s happened and all the changes he’s had to deal with, it’s not unsurprising for Peter to have a depressive episode.”

Tony’s hands went up as he interrupted. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. You think he’s depressed?”

It wasn’t something anyone wanted to hear but it was the truth and it wouldn't be fixed with a change in medication. “He’s healing from a TBI. He can’t go to school or be Spider-Man. He takes his medication under supervision. How could he not be having a hard time?”

Something clicked in Tony’s mind and he sighed, slumping against the desk. “What are we going to do?”

Bruce leaned back in his chair, folding his hands in his lap. “Therapy? Or maybe Sam?”

Tony shook his head. “He doesn’t like therapists. He doesn’t even talk to us anymore.”

“Then maybe we should bring in someone who knows what they’re doing. Truthfully we should have gotten him in from the beginning.”

The mechanic's eyebrows furrowed as he wracked his brain for who Bruce could be talking about. “Who?”

 

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Peter curled up on his bed, arms wrapped around the Hulk teddy that Tony had gotten him. He’d blown off his therapy sessions again, not in the mood for flash cards or any talking at all. He just wanted to be alone but he knew that May would likely be in to give him his meds with lunch at some point. 

He hadn’t had any seizures while on the new medication but with how much it affects his mind he probably wouldn't remember if he had anyway. There was no way he could go to school or be Spider-Man on his meds and the realisation almost made him give up altogether. What was the point in trying to get better when his medication made him feel slow and stupid? He just wanted everything to go back to how it had been before. 

There was a knock at the door then and Peter didn’t bother turning to see who it was. “Go away.”

“Peter?”

 

That was a voice he hadn’t heard in a while. The teenager sat up in bed, dropping his bear and turning to the door where his visitor was waiting. 

“Ned?”

The boy was waiting in the doorway with a smile, eyes bright and excited. “Hey man.”

Peter sprang up from his bed and raced over, wrapping his arms around his best friend with a surprised laugh. “I can’t believe you’re here! I missed you!”

Ned caught him, laughing too as he hugged him back. “Me too. Mr Stark called me during second period and asked me to come down so...here I am.”

Peter squeezed Ned tight before letting go and raising his eyebrows. “You s-skipped class?”

Ned’s face contorted into a guilty expression but he didn’t lose his smile. “Well, yeah. It’s for you. Of course, I was going to come. Mr Stark said you weren’t coming out of your room. Are you okay?”

Peter shrugged and took a seat on his bed as he picked up his Hulk Bear and sat it on his lap. Ned took a seat beside him and waited for his answer. 

“Not really? It’s j-just been really h-hard lately. Everythings diff...d...what's the word?”

Ned's voice was calm. “Different?” 

“Yeah.”

The room was quiet for a moment before Peter flopped onto his back on the bed, Ned following suit. “I j-just hate being like this. I fo-forget things and screw up my w-words and I still get seizures.”

Ned turned his head on the duvet as Peter hugged Hulk Bear to his chest. “Are they scary? I researched about them when I heard you were having them. They sound horrible.”

Peter thought for a moment, staring up at the ceiling as he answered. “I don’t even re-remember them most of the time. I wake up and see everyone staring at me or I wake up o-on the ground or in my bed. Mr S-stark always stays with me. I don’t remember the actual s-seizure but I kn-know I’ve lost time. One time I h-hit my head on the way down and I woke up in the i-infirmary. Mr Stark insisted on head scans and everything.”

Ned turned his head to stare up at the glow in the dark stars on the ceiling. “Damn, I’m sorry man. Well, if you have one when I’m here I know what to do. MJ and I took a first aid class.”

That wasn’t what Peter had expected him to say and he turned his head to watch him, finding Ned’s brown eyes when he turned too. “You guys took a first aid class for me?”

A nod, brown hair falling over Ned's forehead. “Yeah. We wanted to make sure we knew what to do.”

Peter didn’t know what to say. His friends had been thinking about him and trying to help in any way they could and he hadn’t even known. His eyes pricked with tears and he quickly blinked them away. “Thanks, dude.”

He cleared his throat. “So, what’s been happening at school?”

“Not much. It’s really boring without you. Everyones moved on from gossiping about your ‘accident’ which is good but now it’s all about how Spider-Mans missing.”

Peter sat up, frowning. “They’ve noticed?”

“Everyone has. It’s like, all they play on the news. You didn’t know?”

No, he did not. Peter rubbed a hand over his hair, a nervous tick he’d picked up from Tony. “What are they saying?”

Ned pulled his phone from his pocket and opened up Twitter, scrolling till he found what he’d wanted. “No one's seen you around since your last mission and people are getting worried. Some say you died, others say you were arrested. One news station is offering a reward to anyone that can verify a Spidey sighting.”

Peter studied the phone screen before a smile slowly spread across his face. He looked up at his friend and raised an eyebrow. “You wanna make some money?”

Ned smiled, eyes bright as his own eyebrows wiggling in response. “For the new red dead redemption?”

Peter offered his hand and Ned nodded, excitedly completing their handshake as they both exclaimed. “Splitsies!”

The two launched from the bed and ran out into the hallway to carry off their scheme. 

Bruce was in Tony’s lab when Peter and Ned ran in to get Peters suit and he immediately went to stop them. “Peter, you know you-”

The teenager threw a reply over his shoulder as they left, too excited to wait. “Don’t worry! I”m not going Spider-Manning I just n-need the suit for a photo!”

“I...what?” Bruce was more confused than before but he left them to it, too happy seeing Peter smiling and laughing to stop him. The poor kid had been so down lately and suddenly there he was goofing around with his friend like he was an ordinary kid again. There was no way he was stopping that. 

Peter slipped into his suit and grabbed his mask as Ned followed after with his phone. 

“What should I do?” The spiderling crawled up the side of the compound, peering down at his best friend as he aimed the camera at him. 

“Put your mask on and then...I don’t know. We’ll just take some pics of you chilling or something.”

Peter tugged his mask over his face, the eyes flickering to life as Karen's warm voice met his ears. “Hello, Peter. I’m very to have you back but you are not permitted to use this suit until Dr Banner clears you for duty.”

Peter sighed, loving the feeling of being in his suit again. “Thanks, Karen, I really missed you but don’t worry. I’m not using the suit to fight crime. I’m just taking photos with Ned.”

Karen hummed, voice bright and pleased. “I can allow that. Hello, Ned.”

Peter hopped up the side of the building as he called down. “Karen says h-hi!”

Ned beamed, squinting as he looked up. “Hi, Karen!”

Peter paused in his climb and perched lightly on the side of the building, only his feet and five fingers keeping him up. “How's this?”

Ned held up his phone. “Good! Do a pose or something!”

Peter crouched and looked out over the skyline as Ned crowed beneath him. “Ooh get it! Get it! Hell, yeah!”

Peter giggled and struck another pose as Ned hyped him up from the ground. “Go best friend! Go, Peter! Ooooh shit yeah. Flex! You got it!”

Peter fired a web and hung from it, dramatically flexing his arms as Ned laughed. “Flash is going to go nuts when he sees these. Take a selfie with me. I’ll make it my profile picture on everything.”

Peter jumped down and put his arm around Ned’s shoulders, aiming his web shooters at the camera like he was about to shoot them. Ned smiled wide and took the picture as they both laughed. “Flash is going to be soo mad.”

::::::::::::::

“-yeah, and then four godfathers and three Hawaiians...actually just give me one of every flavour on your menu. Yes, I said every one. They're for the Avengers, this is not a prank. No, I’ll have someone pick them up, thanks.”

Tony hung up the phone and tried to think of anything else Peter might want for dinner. Should he get dessert? What was he thinking? It was for Peter, of course, he should.

He just wanted to cheer him up and get him out of his room but it was hard when the kid wouldn’t even talk to-

Tony’s thoughts were interrupted when the door opened and in strode Steve. 

“Tony, you should come see this.”

 

The mechanic's heart dropped into his stomach before that dropped too. “What is it? Is it Peter? Is he okay? What happened?!”

 

Steve grabbed Tony’s shoulders before he could run out of the room. “Woah, calm down! He’s fine! He’s better than fine actually.”

Tony froze and frowned, completely lost. “What?”

 

Steve shook his head, laughing as he pulled Tony towards the door. “Just, look.”

Hand on his arm, Steve led Tony to the living room where Peter and Ned were roaring with laughter, leaning left and right and yelling as they tried to beat each other in Mario Cart. Peter threw his hands up as Ned threw popcorn at the tv when he lost. 

“No way! That was a foul!”

“There’s no fouls in this!”

Ned scowled and shook his head. “Well, then you cheated! You have Spider powers! The spidey sense told you I was going to throw it and you dodged!”

Peter wrapped an arm around his stomach as he laughed. “That’s n-not even how it w-works!”

Tony was paralysed, stuck in the doorway watching the two kids play. Peter hadn’t been that happy since...well, since before the accident. He couldn’t believe it. 

“Bruce was right. We should have brought him in right away.” 

Steve was smiling as he watched the boys throw popcorn into each other’s mouths. “I heard someone laughing all the way from my room. I didn’t even recognise it at first.” 

Tony felt tears prick at his eyes by blinked them back as he ventured into the living room. 

“Hey, you two look like you’re having fun.” 

Peter turned his blinding smile to his mentor and pointed to the tv with a stand as steady as Tony had ever seen it. 

“We’re about to break the tie! You wanna play the winner? Which will be me.” 

Ned laughed and playfully shoved his friend's shoulder as Tony answered. “Sure! I’m ordering in for dinner. Ned, you’re welcome to stay. We’re having pizza.” 

The teenager's eyes were wide in awe and he tripped over his words, controller almost dropping from his hands. “Um- yeah I’d love to! If it’s not any trouble or-“ 

Peter watched the tv screen, fingers flicking through levels for the game as he saved his friend from anymore fumbling. 

“Thanks, Mr Stark! Can I have e-extra...um, extra…” 

His fingers slowed as a frown formed on his face and Tony was worried Peters good mood was ruined. The kid's bad hand started to tremble as he searched his mind for the word he wanted. 

Ned didn’t seem to be worried, however, and simply leaned over and tapped a button on peters controller for him. “Dude, you wanna play charades?” 

Peter blinked, concentration breaking as he suddenly smiled. “What?” 

Ned was so casual about it and Tony watched, amazed at how easily the young man helped Peter. “Describe the thing your thinking of and we’ll guess what it is.” 

Peter let out a small, titter as he leaned back in the chair, hand tremor slowing. “Okay. It’s round and red and you eat it.”

Ned raised an eyebrow comically. “Is it candy?” 

“No” 

“Would it kill a dog if it ate it?”

Peter snorted. “I don’t know.”

“What’s it feel like if you squish it in your hand?” 

Tony almost laughed aloud at the question but Peter took a moment to think.   
“Gooey? Really watery. There’s slippery seeds in it...tomato!” 

Peter beamed as he remembered the word, Ned patting him on the back with a warm hand and Tony clapped dramatically, proud of his kid. “I think that deserves a treat. You guys want ice cream?”

Steve laughed from the doorway. “After dinner, Tony.”

Tony nodded but really, he would have given Peter and Ned anything they wanted if they'd just keep smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's more to come I'm just finishing up the next chapter so hopefully it'll be up soon


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the second to last chapter so, I hope you like it!!!

Peter laughed at the snapchat Ned sent, showing off his new game as he promised to come by that afternoon so they could play it. 

“Why am I seeing a selfie of you and Ned all over the news?”

Peter turned at Tony’s voice, seeing the news story roll on like it had all morning. “They thought Spider-Man died and they offered a reward to prove I wasn’t.”

Tony’s eyebrow went up. “So, Ned sent a selfie in?”

Peter held up his phone, Neds happy face and new game on the screen. “Yeah, we split the money for the new red dead redemption game! Cool, right?”

Tony sighed, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them and smiling. “Peter. I’m a billionaire. If you wanted a game you could have just asked me instead of risking your secret identity for it.”

Well, he hadn’t considered that. The teenager sagged, frowning. “Oh. I didn’t think of that.”

Tony bent to pick up the remote and unmuted the tv. “Doesn’t matter, I made sure they couldn't trace it back to you and I’ve made sure Ned's name isn’t released. But there’s something else.”

He pointed to the TV and Peter stood, walking over to watch the grainy security camera footage playing. It was him, Spider-Man, being knocked down in a fight. Peter didn’t remember any of it which meant it had to be the cause of his head injury. He laid on the ground, unmoving as other Avengers gathered around him, Steve protecting him from any threat while Natasha looked him over.

The news presenter spoke over the footage. “This video was just leaked to the public by the owner of the store this security camera belonged to and it clearly shows Spider-Man being injured in battle. Many have wondered where our city's web-slinging hero has gone and this may be the answer.”

The footage cut to later when Spider-Man was waking up and getting up off the ground. He looked shaky and slow and Peter was kind of amazed he’d managed to get up at all. He’d hit the ground hard. No wonder he didn’t remember it.

“It appears that Spider-Man did not escape without injury. While our sources confirm he is alive and well we suspect that he has been taking this time to recover. We can only hope that he isn’t gone for good. Get well soon, Spider-Man. We need you.”

Tony turned it off and turned to Peter as he waved a hand. “That footage was leaked last night and since then, people have been sending you stuff non-stop.”

Peter didn’t think he’d heard right and his words came as a squeak as he followed Tony to the elevator. “What?”

Tony couldn’t help but smile as he pushed the button for the lobby. “Apparently the public have missed their hero and when they found out you were hurt they were...concerned. They sent you some things.”

The elevator dinged, the doors opened and...Peter’s eyes grew wide. There was a pile of letters and packages by the entrance, poor Happy still lugging in more. “These are for me?”

Tony watched the kid with pride as he tried to look bored. “Well, for Spider-Man. But yes.”

Peter wanted to get his hands on all of them all at once but- “Wait. How did they know where to send it all?”

Tony crossed his arms and looked away. “I may have...set up something with the postal service so that people could just write ‘to Spider-man’ and it would be sent to a warehouse of mine.” Peter smiled wide and smug as if he were SpongeBob catching Squidward eating Krabby Patties. 

Tony rolled his eyes and pushed the kid towards his pile of letters. “No one knows our address, they can’t track you. Just go open all your shit, will you? And don’t make a mess.”

Peter squealed, hopping towards his pile excitedly. “Thank you, Mr Stark!”

There were so many to choose from Peter almost didn’t know what to open first until one caught his eye. It was covered in stickers and patches of glitter and Peter plucked it from the pile, inspecting the writing scrawled across the paper. 

The teenager sat, smiling at the wobbly letters, obviously written by a kid just learning to write. He pulled the superhero sticker from the paper, opening the envelope and tugging the card free. 

It was covered in glitter, the front a mess of colour and blobs of glue but Peter loved it. The inside was decorated with the wobbly writing of a kid, glitter pens smearing the letters but Peter sat on the floor and read it eagerly. 

“Deer Spidormans my name is Emrys and I’m seven. The news sayd you got hurt and have to stay home to get better. I miss you a lot and I hope you get better soon. Love from Emrys.” 

Peter grinned from ear to ear and pressed the letter to his chest. “I love you too, Emrys.” 

He was about to put the letter down when a thought occurred to him. They sent him letters, why shouldn’t he return the favour? 

Grabbing one of the mail bags on the floor, Peter shoved as many letters and parcels in as he could and swung them over his shoulder, hurrying up to his room. 

Tony dodged him on his way past, confused as he watched the boy hurry off with his luggage. “Pete, what are you doing?”

Peter barely turned his head to reply, excited and loud. “I’m gonna write some letters!” 

He disappeared around the corner, only to pop his head back around a second later. “Um, is it okay if I reply to all of these? The postage is probably going to cost a lot.” 

Tony smiled and waved a hand. “Go nuts.” 

Peter beamed and ran off once more. “Thanks!”

There were a lot of letters and packages to sort through but it wasn’t like Peter had anywhere else to be. Some letters were from kids, some from teenagers, even some parents wrote in telling him their kids missed them and that they hoped he was okay. 

Peters favourites were the ones from people he saved. “Hi, Spider-Man! My names Harrison, you probably don’t remember but you saved me once. The breaks failed on my motorbike and I thought I was going to die or kill someone else. But you swung across the highway and saved me. I just wanted to let you know that my daughter is turning one today and it’s because of you that I was here to see it. Get better soon, man. We need you out there.” 

Peter almost cried when he pulled out the photo that had been sent with it. Harrison and his husband were sitting at a table, smiles lighting their faces as their daughter sat between them, Spider-Man cake squished beneath her fingers. 

All afternoon Peter pulled letter after letter out of envelopes, treasuring the messages and stories inside. And he wrote back to every single one. 

:::::::

Tony hadn’t heard from the kid in a few hours and decided to check in on him, unaware of the decorating Peter had done. 

The door opened, sweeping envelopes across the floor and the first thing Tony noticed was the two distinct piles. 

One messy, shredded pile was just empty envelopes and packages and the other was made from towers of neatly stacked letters, all written carefully and addressed. 

The next thing he noticed was the teenager himself, slumped on his desk and sound asleep. Ink was smudged across his fingers, with streaks of blue across his cheeks where he must have been rubbing his eyes. He looked happy even in sleep and Tony smiled, creeping up carefully and trying not to make a sound. 

“Petey, it’s Tony. I’m just gonna get you into bed.” 

The kid didn’t show any signs that he’d heard until Tony picked him up and lifted him from the chair. 

“Hmm ‘m not finished.” 

Tony held the boy in his arms and walked to the cushy king bed as he laughed. “Yes, you are. You can finish tomorrow.” 

Peter sighed against his mentor's chest, giving in and falling back to sleep in an instant. 

He looked so young as Tony lowered him onto the mattress, curling on his side and grabbing his pillow to bury his face in it. 

“Goodnight Spider-baby.” 

He tucked him in and ruffled those curls, turning and going to leave the room only to pause when he finally saw the fruits of Peters hard work. He’d decorated his entire wall with the letters and gifts he’d received. There were pictures and drawings, photos and letters, as well as more than one get well soon teddy sitting on his desk and smiling with fluffy faces.

The whole wall was covered with well wishes and stories and thank yous from people Peter had helped, saved or inspired. The kid deserved it all and more and Tony couldn't help but feel proud of his little spider.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::

The next morning when Peter woke, the first thing he saw was the letters he’d pinned up. He smiled, chest full of pride and joy and a heaping dose of determination. He jumped from his bed and got dressed, heading out to the kitchen before his alarm had even gone off. 

The Avengers were scattered around the kitchen and dining room, Clint and Rhodey lounging on couches in front of the TV, but Peter headed straight for Tony. 

“Hey, there’s the arachnid I was looking for. Here, I have your breakfast all ready with your meds.”

Peter took a seat and dug into his breakfast, taking his pills from Tony without a fuss. It was a nice change from the past couple of days and it didn’t go unnoticed by the other occupants of the room. 

He shovelled his breakfast down with gulps of water between each mouthful until he’d finished it all. Tony raised an eyebrow at him which went unseen as Peter ran from the room. 

“Gee, he’s in a hurry, isn't he? What's he got planned?” Rhodey's words were tinged with laughter, happy to see the boy so energized. 

Tony was about to tell his friend that he had no idea, when Peter ran back into the room, slowing his footsteps as he went as if he hadn’t realised he’d been running. All eyes followed him across the room where he stopped in front of Natasha where she was finishing off the last bite of her breakfast. 

She looked up at the kid, expression open and soft but Tony could see the slight lift of her left brow. Peter smiled and offered her his flashcards. “C-can you help me practice my words? Please.”

Natasha smiled and took them “I’d love to.” 

It may have not seemed like much to some but every Avenger in that room knew that Peter had stopped participating in therapy almost a week ago. He’d given up, mood soured by the idea that he’d never get better and yet there he was asking for help to try again. 

Tony’s eyes stung with emotion and he blinked it away before he could start to cry, watching the two sit together and practice. 

It was a pretty damn good morning. 

::::::::::::::::::::::

Once Peter started working at his therapies again he saw changes and progress that he hadn’t before. Speaking was easier and he wasn’t bothered by seizures as much as he used to. Sure, he had bad days but they were always spent with pizza, movies and Ned. 

He didn’t feel the weight on him that he had in those first few weeks either. He saw a light at the end of the tunnel, something to work towards that was coming closer with every day. Until finally, it was there.

“Peter, can you come into the living room, please? We have something for you.”

Tony looked strangely excited and Peter narrowed his eyes as he followed him out. “You know it's not my birthday right?”

Tony nodded and pressed a hand to Peters back, guiding him out to where everyone was waiting. “I know. What? I’m not allowed to give you things just because I want to?”

Peter laughed a little, nervously as they entered the living room, smiling Avengers waiting. 

“Umm...what's this about? You guys are freaking me out.”

May was standing there too, beaming and looking so proud. Peter didn’t know what was happening. Bruce stepped forward, eyes bright behind his glasses. “You've had a really tough few months and you're working really hard so...Peter, we think it's time for you to try going to school again.” 

Peter’s face broke out into a smile as he searched the faces around him for any sign of a joke. “You’re serious? I can go?”

May brushed a hand over his hair as she reassured him. “You’ve been working so hard and you haven’t had any big seizures for a while now. You start next week.”

Peter didn’t know what to say, there were so many emotions bumping up against one another in his head that he didn’t even know what he was feeling. He was excited and scared and relieved all at once. It was a lot to handle.

“There’s more.”

All eyes went to Bucky as he pulled something from behind him. It was...a leash? 

Peters' eyes followed the rope down to a beautiful blue staffy sitting obediently at the winter soldiers side. “Her names Tessa. She’s a service dog and she’s all yours.”

Peter knelt as Bucky let go of the leash, the dog wiggling excitedly as she ran to her new owner and nuzzled against him. She smelt like a puppy and Peter rubbed his hands over her soft head as she smiled up at him. “She's mine? Really?”

Steve knelt beside the two, rubbing a hand over Tessa's rump as she wiggled. “Yeah, she’s specifically trained for people with seizures so, she can take care of you at school.”

Peter wrapped his arms around Tessa as she crawled onto his lap, resting her chin on his shoulder. “I love her. Thank you!”

Superhero or not, Peter Parker loved dogs and he was not ashamed to say he cried over his new friend. She was soft and warm and she whined as he cried, turning her head until she could lick Peters tears from his cheeks, making him laugh at the tickle. 

“It’s okay, I’m okay, Tess. Good girl.”

Tessa wasn’t just any good girl, Peter would go as far to say she was the goodest! They seemed to bond instantly and she stayed by his side all afternoon. He fed her treats and covered her head in kisses until she was smiling, tail wagging behind her. 

She was trained to detect oncoming seizures and take care of Peter when they happened but it wasn’t just seizures she’d help with, it was everything. If Peter got nervous or upset she’d whine and press against him until he patted her, helping him calm down and focus. 

He loved her with all his heart and he couldn't wait to take her to school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tessa!!!!! I love her so much. Next chapter is already written so I'll probably post it tomorrow. Next chapter is the last chapter!!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter!!! I hope you like it!!

“You ready, dude?” 

Peter nodded but stayed quiet, one hand stroking Tessa's head where she stood beside him. Ned didn’t look convinced as he closed the car door and waved a thank you to Happy. Tony wanted to drop them off himself but Peter hadn’t wanted to draw any extra attention. It was going to be hard enough as it was. 

“You’ll do great! You have me and Tess, and MJ said she’d meet us here to walk us to class. She’s pretty excited to see you so- oh, there she is!”

Peter felt his bad hand shake as it held Tessa's leash and the staffy silently pressed closer to his side, forehead urging his fingers to pat her. MJ walked towards them, smiling as she got closer. 

“I hate to say this but I think I actually missed you, Parker.” Her tone was teasing but Peter couldn’t even lift his head to look at her, his shoulders hunched up around his ears. He’d been so excited to go to school but standing there, trying to go back to his old life, it all just reminded him of how different things were. 

What if he messed up his words or forgot where he was? What if he got mad and hurt somebody? Tessa whined and Ned leaned close to Peters' ear, voice low. “You okay? It’s just MJ.”

Peter knew it was stupid, he’d talked to MJ on skype a few times. It wasn’t like she didn’t know he had trouble with words but at that moment, in front of her, he couldn’t say anything at all. 

He shook his head, eyes on the ground as he pressed his lips tightly together. He didn’t want to get his words wrong in front of her, he didn’t want to see that look of pity and worry in her eyes. Going to school was a bad idea. 

“I c-can’t do th-this.” His words were quiet and small, only loud enough for Ned to hear and he quickly pulled his phone from his pocket. “I want to g-go h-home.”

Tessa whined and jumped up, gently taking Peters shaking hand in her mouth and pulling him down so that she could climb into his lap. He sat on the concrete, phone dropping to the ground as he wrapped his arms around her, closing his eyes as she licked his cheek. 

“What's wrong?” Ned's voice came closer as he knelt and Peter pressed his face to Tessa’s neck, hiding.

“I’m g-gonna get my w-words wrong. Everyone's gonna l-look at m-me. I thought it w-would be like it was before b-but it’s not and I can’t-”

“Okay, you don’t have to. We can call Happy to come back if you want but...Peter, you can do this. You don’t have to talk to anybody. MJ and I will keep everyone away from you if you want. Come on, dude. You’ve worked so hard to get here.”

“Peter no offence,” MJ’s voice drew closer as she knelt with the two boys. “But I don’t care about your stutter or if you zone out and I don’t care if you’re a little weird because you were a little weird before anyway. I don’t know what it’s like to have to deal with a brain injury but I know that I missed you and if I have to go to one more decathlon practice with Flash on our team I’m going to personally hold you responsible for what I do to him.”

Her voice softened and she offered a hand to Peter, patiently waiting for him to take it. “Come inside. You don’t have to do it by yourself.”

Peter looked up from his dog, eyebrows drawing together as he spoke. “Did you j-just call a disabled person weird? That’s so mean.” 

He laughed teasingly and MJ nudged his shoulder before grabbing his hand and helping him up from the ground. 

“And hey, Tessa’s so cute they probably won't even notice you.” 

Peter tugged the staffy along as they walked into school. “Now, you’re just b-bullying me. Tessa, bite MJ.”

As it turned out, MJ was actually right. They had physics first and while the class stared for a moment, all attention quickly slipped to Tessa. Thankfully all of Peters teachers had been informed about her and Mrs Hudson quickly shushed the coos and demands to pat. 

“Listen up! Tessa is a service dog, that means she’s working and you are not to distract her. She’s here for Peter, not you. Don’t touch her. Now, everyone turn to page twelve, we have a lot to cover.”

There were a few grumbles and while Tessa was still stared at, for the most part, everyone went back to their books. 

The teacher walked to Peters desk, voice lowered so that the other students could concentrate on their work. “It’s good to have you back, Peter. You can start on page seven if you like and I’ll walk you through our previous lessons to catch you up.”

Peter offered her a smile and pulled his book from his bag. “Thanks. I don’t n-need to catch up though I’ve been...um...Ned?”

Ned turned to him from his seat beside his best friend, offering the help he needed without a second thought. “Starts with S.” 

Peter frowned, taking a moment to think before trying again. “Oh, um St-studying at home. Neds been sending me h-his notes.”

Mrs Hudson raised an eyebrow, impressed. “Good work. Chapter twelve then, Mr Parker.”

He turned his page and set to work, a small smile on his face. Sure, some things were different now. He had to ask Ned to help remember a word every now and then and he had pills to take with his lunch but by the end of his first class he’d done the same work as everyone else and Tessa was half asleep on his feet. Maybe school wasn’t so bad. 

::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Peter blinked, hand brushing over Tessa's head beside him. She was so soft and warm. What was he doing? 

He was in the hallway at school and it was mostly empty so it must have been class time but Peter had no idea what he was doing there. 

Wasn’t he just in class with Ned and MJ? Why weren’t they with him? Why was he in an empty hallway and not in class? 

Peter looked down at his hands, his bad one shaking again like it always did when he got frustrated or scared or angry and he was almost all three because he didn’t even know how long he’d been standing there. Had he had another seizure or had he just forgotten what he was doing? 

He usually had Mr Stark or Steve or someone to tell him what the hell was going on but he was alone and he thought he might cry if he couldn't remember what to do.

:::::::

Flash groaned as he paused in the hallway, seeing his rival a few meters away with his head down. Stupid Penis Parker would probably nark on him for ditching class if he saw him. Maybe he should turn back and go the other way. Or he could...shit was Parker okay?

He was just...standing there in the hall looking lost. The dog, Tina or whatever was whining and nudging his side but Peter didn’t seem to notice. Was he hyperventilating?

Flash frowned and stepped forward a little, trying to decide what to do. Peter hadn’t noticed him yet so he could leave except he hadn't gotten to pick on the nerd for months and it would be so easy. 

But shit Peter actually looked really scared and Flash was sure the dork was about to cry and...goddammit, he was gonna help him. 

“Hey, Penis. You okay?” Peter looked up at his voice, eyes wide as he stuttered.

“Flash. I-I don’t know what…”

He looked so lost and one of his hands was shaking as his dog licked at it. Flash narrowed his eyes. “Did you have one of your mind blank things?” 

Everyone in class had been told about what happened to Parker and what to do if anything went wrong. 

Peter nodded, sniffing as he wiped at his eyes with his sleeve. Flash rolled his eyes, annoyed at himself for getting involved. He should have just walked away. He didn’t want to deal with this crap but he couldn’t just leave Peter there in the hallway. 

Flash took the other boys wrist, pulling it to stretch out the arm before Peter pulled back, voice shaky. “D-don’t mess with m-me right now Flash I don’t-“ 

Yep. Totally should have walked away. Flash tried to keep his voice calm and soft like they’d been told to do in class. “Calm down. Stop. Look at your watch. What time is it?”

Peter blinked, confused at the question and looked at his watch on the wrist that Flash was holding. “Quarter past ten.” 

Flash let go of the pale wrist, sounding almost bored. “Okay, now look at your schedule.” 

Peter blinked, frowning in confusion. Flash gestured to the other boy's jeans. “It’s in your pocket.” 

Flash waited for him to get it out, feeling a weird warm feeling in his chest. Is that what it felt like to be kind to people? He didn’t know if he liked it. 

Peter got the schedule out and frowned at it. “Um..” 

Man, the kid was out of it. Flash watched his face carefully, tone uncharacteristically gentle. “Do you know what day it is?” 

Peter bit his lip, eyes roaming over the sheet of paper as he searched his muddled mind. After a moment he shook his head and Flash sighed quietly, pointing. 

“It’s Wednesday. So, if it’s 12:15 on a Wednesday what class do you have?” 

Peter looked calmer, his hands steady and eyes clear. “Chemistry.”

Flash nodded and took Peters arm, waiting until the boy had taken hold of Tessa’s leash again before pulling him down the hall to their class. And great, now he was actually going to class. “Right. Good job, Penis. Let’s go.”

Peter looked down at Flash's hand on his arm, eyebrows furrowing as he followed along, Tessa trotting beside him. “W-why are you helping me?” 

Flash rolled his eyes, the warm fuzzy feeling gone and replaced once again by a deep annoyance for his classmate. “You have a brain injury, Parker. I’m not a monster, okay?”

What an idiot. His voice dipped low in a grumble, mood settling into decidedly grumpy.  
“Don’t tell anyone about this.” 

::::::::::::::::::::::::::

“Peter, you want my sandwich? I got PB and J again.”

The teenager lifted his own sandwich in offering. “Sure, you want my BLT? I’ll take the B out and give it to Ned.”

MJ smiled as they swapped sandwiches, Peter handing the bacon to Ned who smiled. “I like this arrangement, I really do, but I can’t believe you don’t like peanut butter.”

MJ wrinkled her nose as the boy ate his bacon before turning her eyes to her own sandwich. “I don’t like it sticking to my mouth. I’m not about eating glue, okay? Shut up and eat your innocent farm animal.”

Ned laughed and shoved the rest of said innocent farm animal in his mouth. “I will!”

Peter laughed as he watched the two of them bicker but something had been bothering him and he had to ask. “Hey, guys? H-how much does everybody know a-about my TBI...thing?”

Ned frowned, thinking. “Um, well everyone heard about it. You know how stuff gets around. And then last week when we heard you were coming back they held an assembly for everyone in our year and they told us about TBI’s and support dogs.”

Peter groaned, sinking a little in his chair. “God, that's embarrassing.”

MJ pulled the crusts off her sandwich as she shrugged, eyes focussed on the slice of tomato that was trying to slip from the bread. “I guess but we also have a new drill that might come in handy.”

Ned nodded emphatically, only just remembering. “Oh, yeah! If you ever have a seizure everyone has to pull their tables and stuff away from you and then everyone but me and the teacher has to leave the room.”

Peter had not been expecting that. “Wow, that’s actually kind of nice to know.”

MJ pulled the last of the crust off her bread, finally satisfied she could eat it. “Yeah, we had drills for it and everything and Mr Holland gave detentions to anyone that made jokes about it.”

Peter felt a little bit better. One of his biggest worries was having a seizure in class and having people stare or take videos. It was nice to know that he’d be safe and that his friends would be able to take care of him.

“I guess that explains why Flash h-helped me before.”

“What? He helped you? When?”

“I was in the hallway and-” Peter was about to explain the weird interaction he’d had with his bully but his voice was quickly drowned out by whispers and chatters throughout the cafeteria.

Everyone in the room had suddenly started talking at the same time, and Peter quickly followed suit and turned towards the door. 

He didn’t know what he'd been expecting but it certainly wasn’t Tony Stark standing by the door looking embarrassed. He was searching through the sea of kids, sunglasses obscuring his eyes from view. 

Peter stood, his mentor immediately finding him and marching over. Why was he there? Was something wrong?

“Is everything okay? Did my monitor go off?” Peter started fiddling with his watch, set with a tracker and monitor in case anything happened but Tony quickly pulled his hand away from it. 

“No its fine I just...sorry, I shouldn’t have come.” He shook his head and turned to go, only stopping when Peter took his arm. 

“No, Mr Stark it's fine. Really, I don’t mind.” 

Something was clearly wrong and Tony pulled his sunglasses off, fiddling with them as he tried to explain. 

“I was just…” But he couldn't find the words and for once Peter was the one offering help. 

“Worried?”

Tony smiled a little, eyes unable to meet Peters while talking about something as scary as feelings. “I’m used to you being right there if I want to check on you and I forgot you were at school. So, when I couldn't find you I panicked a little and I had Happy drive me here but...it was stupid. I'm a grown man and you’re a grown...boy. I’m gonna go.”

Peter smiled, forgetting all about the room of onlookers as he wrapped his arms around his hero’s waist. “I missed you too.”

:::::::::::::::::::::::

Three weeks later Peter pulled on his spider suit, wiggling into the legs and shimmying it up his waist. 

“Bye, Tessa. I’ll be back later, okay? You can have the night off.” He bent to kiss her head, earning a lick across his face for his trouble. 

"I love you too."

He tapped his chest, adjusting his suit to his body before perching on the windowsill and pulling on his mask. 

The eyes flickered to life, settings and suit readings lighting up in his vision as a familiar voice greeted him. 

“Hello, Peter. I am pleased to hear that Dr Banner has cleared you for duty.”

The teenager sighed and hugged his arms around himself. “Me too. I really missed this.”

Karen's voice was warm and happy. “As did I.”

Peter was excited but there was worry and fear too, mixing together in his belly to make him just a scooch nauseous. Not a good idea with a mask on while swinging. 

He let go of his web and landed on the roof of a building overlooking the city, crouching on the edge as he watched people walk around below.

“Karen, let's ease into this. Let me know if any old ladies or little kids need help.”

It was bright out, the Saturday afternoon sun bringing people out to enjoy the weather. “My scanner didn’t detect any old ladies that need help but there is a disturbance on a nearby playground.

“What kind of disturbance?” Peter ran across the rooftops until he arrived at a small play area where children were swinging on bars and going down slides. The only disturbance Peter could see was one kid who seemed to be refusing to play, his dad trying to encourage him but getting nowhere with it. 

The boy cried, clinging to his dad's leg as he wailed. “I can’t do it! I’m too scared! I don’t want to fall again.”

It wasn’t exactly a super-hero level situation but Peter really was anxious about his first day back on the job. He still got seizures occasionally and while the suit had new sensors and capabilities to protect him during one, he was still worried. 

He felt out of practice and being away from Tessa and Tony didn’t make it easier. Helping a kid on the playground seemed like a good place to start. 

He fired a web and swung down, landing on the climbing frame a few meters from the little boy and his dad. 

“Hey there.”

The kid's eyes found him and immediately grew, tears forgotten as his mouth fell open at the sight of the hero. 

Peter climbed down and approached the two, the dad of the kid smiling as his boy bounced towards the young Avenger, hand outstretched to touch the suit. 

“Hi, Spider-Man.” His face was lit up in awe and Peter crouched for him, smiling beneath the mask. 

“Hi. What's your name?” 

The kid wiped a hand over his cheek, drying it as he sniffled. “Charlie.”

“Nice to meet you, Charlie. You know, I could hear you talking to your dad before. Is there a reason you’re too scared to play?”

Charlie became suddenly shy, nodding as he curled back to his dad's side. Peter looked at the father as he answered. “He has epilepsy. He usually loves this park but he had a bad seizure here last week and he fell. I just can’t get him to get back on.”

Peter nodded and tilted his head as he whispered. “Hey, Charlie. You wanna know a secret?”

The boy nodded, bright eyes shining as Peter presented the inside of his wrist, thumb swiping over the suit. Blue letters glowed from the fabric, showing his medic alert information. 

‘TBI Seizure risk’ it was there in case anything happened and civilian medics got to him before Tony’s did. 

Peter’s whispered words were conspiratorial as if they were precious things only for Charlie. “I have seizures too.”

Charlie gasped and held out his own wrist where his medic alert bracelet hung, metal shining brightly on his dark skin. “We’re the same!”

Peter nodded and offered his hand, palm up and open. “I know seizures can be really scary but do you think you could be brave and come play with me?”

Charlie nodded and took Peters hand before reaching back for his dads, tugging them both to the playground. “Yes! I can be brave!”

Peter feigned a sigh of relief and pointed to the monkey bars. “Phew. Thank goodness. I wanted to try those bars but I don’t think I can do them by myself. You wanna show me how it's done?”

Charlie sped off towards them, babbling on excitedly about how he was going to help Spider-Man be brave too but Peter was focussed on his Dad. 

His eyes were shining with unshed tears and he offered a hand to the hero. “Thank you. You don’t know what that means to him. And me.”

Peter took his hand and shook it, nodding. “You’re welcome.”

Peters' stomach settled and he found he was no longer scared of being Spider-Man at all. Karen's voice was warm and happy in his ear. “Welcome back, Spider-Man.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this fic is finally done and I wanna say thank youuuu to everyone that read it and left reviews and kudos I'm so so glad that you enjoyed this and thank you for encouraging me to keep writing I love you allll!!!


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